


Peace I Leave With You

by jncar



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: AU, F/M, Priest Captain Hook | Killian Jones, cursed Hook
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-04
Updated: 2017-04-05
Packaged: 2018-01-11 02:54:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 30
Words: 178,181
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1167798
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jncar/pseuds/jncar
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Emma needs a friend in Storybrooke, she finds one in the sinfully attractive priest Killian Jones. AU covering seasons 1 and 2, featuring cursed-Hook.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Some people on my tumblr dash got the idea of priest-Killian stuck in my head a few weeks ago, and I couldn't let it go. This is going to be a longer multi-chapter, though I have no idea how many yet. There will be smut in later chapters. This story directly follows canon, so when I skip periods of time you can just mentally fill in canon as it happened in the show.

"Twenty-eight years?" Hook asks, his anger flaring red. "I didn't sign up for this to wait another bloody quarter century."

He sees the shift in Cora's eyes—he knows he's said the wrong thing before she even speaks. "Very well, then, you won't have to."

He starts toward her. "Cora, wait—"

With a flick of her wrist he feels himself flying through the air, slamming through the magical shield she's created, and landing hard on the ground. He gasps in pain and looks up at the cloud of purple smoke billowing toward him.

"No. No!" He rises and turns back to the magical shield, pounding his fist and hook against it, but it will not yield. 

Then the smoke is on him.

~ ~ ~

_Twenty-eight years and Eleven days later_

The first time Emma speaks to Killian Jones (he insists on being called Killian—only his parishioners call him Father Jones) is the morning she starts her new job as deputy. She's already noticed him several times—how could she not? It's not every day you see a sinfully attractive priest with a prosthetic hand (more of a hook, really, that splits in two like pincers). He's not the type of man to go unnoticed.

He's at the counter at Granny's when she arrives for her early breakfast before heading to work, and Granny is beaming at him like he's made of rainbows. When he turns to Emma with a smile she starts to understand why, because he's even more attractive up close. There's just a hint of an English accent in his voice as he congratulates her on her new job (apparently he and Graham are friends) and shakes her hand.

"I've been telling him for ages that he needs to expand his department. One man can't police a whole town without overextending himself."

She manages to formulate some appropriate responses to his ongoing small talk but her eyes keep drifting down to his mouth, slightly mesmerized by his lips. He finally wishes her a good day and turns back to Granny to flirt harmlessly while paying his bill.

Emma sits and clutches her coffee cup but her eyes follow Killian as he leaves, imagining what his body might look like underneath the black slacks and the gray tweed sport coat he wears over his black clergy shirt.

Ruby sidles up beside her holding a coffee pot. "It should be illegal for a priest to look that good, right?"

Emma smiles. "No kidding."

"You know," Ruby leans even closer to murmur in Emma's ear, "Episcopal priests are allowed to marry."

"I didn't know you were the marrying type."

Ruby shrugs. "I'm not. It just makes me wonder what else he might be willing to do, under the right circumstances."

Emma tries not to dwell on that thought—especially when, two evenings later, she sees him jogging through town in a tight t-shirt and shorts that give her imagination a much clearer picture.

~ ~ ~

The second time Killian speaks to Emma Swan comes almost two weeks after their first meeting.

He's visiting Graham over lunch at the station, and listens to his friend's confession with concern, but no real surprise.

"I think I'm starting to—to— _care for her_ , you know?" Graham stammers, staring listlessly at the take-out sandwich on the desk between them.

Killian's noticed Swan quite a lot since she arrived in Storybrooke—how could he not? Strangers don't come into town every day, especially not ones with stunning blonde hair, flashing gray-green eyes and a way of wearing jeans that makes it hard to not stare. He may be a priest, but he's still a man. And so is Graham—a lonely, heartsick man.

It doesn't surprise Killian one bit that his friend is developing feelings for his new deputy.

"You know what this means don't you, mate? You have to give up Regina. For good." He's given Graham this same advice dozens of time, but he never listens. That woman is like a cancer on Graham's soul, sapping his will and wearing him down, but she's an addiction Graham hasn't been able to break. Maybe these new feelings for Emma will help (though Killian worries that Graham will try before he's ready, and fears his friend might come out the other end more broken than before). "You'll never be able to have a healthy relationship with anyone else until she's out of your life."

"I know." Graham nods, still not meeting Killian's eyes. "I know I have to quit her."

They are interrupted by the sound of the door opening. Swan strides in with her usual confident posture, and Killian's breath catches in his throat a little when she smiles at them. He looks away quickly. Giving into those feelings of attraction won't do anything to help his friend. They'll only make things worse.

She exchanges some casual greetings with both of them, and he and Graham share stories about some of Storybrooke's more colorful and ridiculous criminal offenses with her as they finish their sandwiches. Killian tries not to stare at her smile, and he excuses himself as soon as he can.

No, Graham's feelings for Emma don't surprise him at all. But his own do.

The third time Killian speaks to Emma Swan comes a mere four nights later, when he answers his phone to hear her shaken voice telling him to come to the hospital—Graham is dead.

~ ~ ~

Even though the funeral is four days after Graham's death, Emma is still in shock. Killian's heartfelt eulogy filled with stories of friendship and kindness doesn't help one bit. She skips out on the graveside service—it's just too much.

But, over an hour later, she finds herself driving by the cemetery again. Finally she parks and walks out to the grave. The cemetery staff is still filling the grave with a little Bobcat excavator, and a light snow has started falling. She stands under the shelter of thea large tree, watching as scoop after scoop of earth tumbles into the grave. She fingers the shoelace tied around her wrist that she salvaged from Graham's boot. She's not sure why she kept it. Maybe to remind herself that someone out there cared about her, even if just for a few weeks.

"You look cold."

She turns to see Killian, standing not far from her. She's not sure if he's been there all along or if he just walked up—she's been too caught up in her own thoughts to notice.

He smiles at her, but his eyes are red, and she can tell he's been crying. Suddenly her own feelings of loss seem trivial. 

She looks at the ground. "Just a little. I like the snow."

He nods. His hand is in the pocket of his warm peacoat, but his hook hangs at his side. "I do, too." He says softly. After a moment of silence he adds, "I wasn't ready to leave him, yet."

She looks up to meet his eyes, and in that moment she sees a reflection of herself—someone as lost and broken as she is. Her rational brain tells her it can't be true. He's a man of god, a pillar of the community, not a screwed up loner like she is. But her instinct tells her that she's right, and her instincts rarely fail her. "Me too," she says softly.

They stand in silence until the grave is full and the Bobcat pulls away. They wait a few minutes longer, watching the snow fall, and then, as if by unspoken agreement, they turn to walk back to the parking lot. They don't speak except to say goodbye, but somehow Emma feels as if they've said much more.

~ ~ ~

On weekdays Killian's afternoons and evenings tend to be filled with appointments and errands, youth groups, bible study, 12-step meetings, organizing volunteers, manning the food pantry, and dozens of other duties that come with running an isolated parish. But his mornings are more relaxed.

On impulse, two days after the funeral, he picks up two coffees to-go at Granny's and brings them by the Sheriff's station at exactly 10 am. Emma raises her eyebrows in surprise, but based on the dark circles under her eyes and the chaotic state of her desk, he made the right call. "I just thought you could use a mid-morning pick-me-up," he says when she asks why. As they drink their coffee he helps her decipher Graham's filing system and then cleans the coffee pot and starts a fresh batch—it looks like she has a long day ahead of her.

An hour later she looks a little less lost, and he feels a little less lonely. This is what Graham would have wanted.

"Thanks," she says with a soft smile as he heads for the door to get back to his own work. "I did need a pick-me-up."

He tries not to dwell on the feelings her smile stirs within him, and as a result can think of little else for the rest of the day.

~ ~ ~

When Killian shows up at the station with mid-morning coffee a third day in a row, Emma starts to get annoyed. Does he really think she's so incompetent that she needs his help? That she can't handle it on her own? Yes, his help is nice, but she really doesn't need it.

She shares her complaint with Mary Margaret that evening, and her roommate, as usual, manages to cut through to the heart of the matter. "Did it occur to you that he might not be doing it for you? Maybe he's doing it because _he_ needs the company. Graham was his best friend. I think maybe, out of loyalty to Graham, he's trying to fill that void by befriending you."

"What does he need me, for? He's friends with half the town." Emma's never had many friends in her life, and she can't imagine being so desperate for one that she'd pester them with coffee every single day.

"Being someone's priest is different from being their friend," Mary Margaret says gently. "I think you should go easy on him. Give him a chance. And in a few weeks if he's still annoying you I'll help you find a way to let him know nicely."

Emma nods, feeling guilty. "I actually do like him. I just…wasn't looking for any more friends. I'm not good with the whole _emotional bonding_ thing."

Mary Margaret's eyes twinkle in reply. "You're getting much better with practice."

The next morning Emma puts on a welcoming smile when Killian turns up right at ten. Okay. She'll try the whole friendship thing. She's supposed to be putting down roots, after all—for Henry's sake—and roots include things like friendship.

By the time he stands to leave she realizes that her smile isn't forced any more.

"Swan," he says, "you know Christmas is this weekend? Of course you know. Well—this week is always one of my busiest of the year. Special services, parties, a children's nativity, dinner invitations. But the day after Christmas I finally get a chance to relax. Graham always used to join me the evening after Christmas. We'd eat junk food and watch old movies. It was a sort of tradition. I—I—would you be interested in joining me for that, this year?"

She hates being put on the spot, but she can see that same lost and broken look in his eyes that she noticed back at the cemetery, and she can't think of a valid excuse. She can almost hear Mary Margaret's voice in her head telling her that this is the sort of thing real friends do for each other. She sighs and answers, "Yeah. Sure. Okay. Um, sounds like fun."

His answering smile makes her heart race a little and sticks in her mind long after he's left.

~ ~ ~

Killian still isn't sure if inviting Emma to his place was a good idea. He still brings her coffee every weekday morning, but he's taken to calling her "Swan" to put a little more distance between them, and she's responded by calling him "Jones." He likes that distance. He needs it. The last thing he needs right now is to develop an infatuation for the woman his best friend had feelings for before he died.

She shows up at his place—a small condo one block from his church—bearing a gift of some homemade cookies (she says Mary Margaret baked them, which, she jokes, makes them safe to eat) and a tin of gourmet hot cocoa mix.

"I was going to bring a bottle of wine," she says, "but Mary Margaret told me you don't drink."

He nods. "That's right. I don't." He doesn't elaborate and she doesn't pry, thank goodness. He's not ready to dredge up those demons tonight.

He's made buffalo wings and homemade macaroni and cheese, and they fill two heaping plates and settle in front of "It's a Wonderful Life."

"Ever since coming to this town I feel kind of like George Bailey touring the world that would have happened if he wasn't alive," she says quietly toward the end of the movie.

"Why's that?"

She shrugs. "I just see Henry and his life here and how different it is from the type of life I would have been able to give him. Some days it makes me think I made absolutely the right choice when I gave him up. Other days I can't help but think it was the biggest mistake of my life."

His heart goes out to her. There are more than a few choices in his past that he wishes he could revisit. "You can't dwell on the past," he says. "No one can. All we can do is look at the present we've been given, and do our best with it to build a better, brighter future. That's all anyone can do."

Her answering smile is more than a little sad. "Yeah. That's what I try to tell myself. But some days are harder than others."

When the movie ends he asks if she's up for one more. She agrees and he pulls out his DVD of "The Princess Bride."

Emma raises an eyebrow. "Seriously? You're a _Princess Bride_ fan?"

"It happens to be a cinematic classic. Don't tell me you don't like it?"

She laughs. "Of course I like it. I'm just surprised by your taste. You surprise me a lot, actually."

"I'm delighted to blow your pre-conceived notions of a man of the cloth out of the water. This was one of my favorites growing up. I liked to pretend I was the Dread Pirate Roberts." He feels a nervous stirring in his gut at the sight of her open, happy smile.

"More like Captain Hook," she teases, "but with better style." She looks down nervously, as if she fears that she's crossed some sort of line by joking about his disability. "Sorry. I—"

"It's fine," he says quickly. "I do hope my look is at least a little better than the perm and waxed mustache."

"Just a little."

Her bright eyes send tingles up and down his spine, and tension hangs in the air between them.

"I'll just…" His voice trails off as he leans forward to put the DVD in the player.

By the time she says goodnight and takes her leave, Killian knows he's in deep trouble. His common sense tells him that he ought to put this to a stop to this before he gets sucked in any deeper. But his common sense isn't the loudest voice in his head right now.

The next morning at ten he brings her another cup of coffee.

~ ~ ~

Emma learns quickly that Killian knows exactly how to be a good friend. He's there for her every step of the way when she decides to challenge Regina and run for Sheriff. He consoles her when Regina digs up her past and has Sidney print it in the paper, he praises her when she saves Regina from the fire, and then, after that humiliating debate and her unexpected win, he's the only one who seems to understand how bittersweet her win feels.

He sits with her in the sheriff's office the morning after her win, drinking their usual coffee. 

"I just feel like a pawn—Gold's pawn, Regina's pawn. They keep pushing me back and forth and I hardly get a chance to figure out how to stand on my own. I'm just not sure it was worth it." She shakes her head. "Henry saw me at my worst. And I never wanted him to find out about how I had him."

"He loves you in spite of your past," Killian says. "If he can let it go, so should you."

"Easier said than done. I've been running from my past for years, and it just keeps catching up with me. You don't what that's like."

"Don't I?" He holds her gaze with an expression that makes her regret her flippant comment. He continues in a low, intense tone. "You know by now that I run a 12-step group at the church. Has it ever occurred to you that the group isn't just for the benefit of the community?"

Her eyes go wide as the realization kicks in. "I'm sorry. I didn't know."

"It's alright," he says. "I've never told you about my past, before coming to Storybrooke. I didn't grow up here. I was born in London—lived there until I was seven. My dad died when I was little, and my mum fell in love with an American businessman. Moved us to Boston to marry him. But he, uh, wasn't a nice man. He was an angry drunk. Used to beat my mum. Eventually started in on me and my older brother, too. As soon as my brother turned eighteen he enlisted in the army to get away, and four years later when I turned eighteen I followed suit. I was already a heavy drinker, but I kept it under control enough to do my duty. I served a tour in Iraq and then came back to serve on a base in California. My brother was on his third tour in Iraq by then, and was due back in two weeks when he was killed. My mum couldn't handle it. She committed suicide a week later."

Emma's throat is tight with shame for her comments and her self-obsession. She's been acting like she has a monopoly on hard-knocks instead of remembering what her instinct told her weeks ago—that he's just as broken as she is.

He continues his story, his tone surprisingly gentle. "My drinking got out of hand, and I started smoking weed, too. One day I went to work high. I was unloading a truck full of heavy equipment, and I wasn't in my right mind. I toppled a heavy crate down onto my own hand. Crushed it beyond saving. My commander took pity on me and got me an honorable medical discharge, though I didn't deserve it." He shakes his head, staring off into the distance. 

"Even that wasn't rock bottom, yet," he says softly. "I went back to Boston. Tried to find work. But my old high school friends pulled me back into a bad scene pretty quickly. There was a girl. I—" His voice catches. "I fell hard and fast. She was my everything. But she was just as messed up as I was. And she was getting pulled into harder stuff—heroin." He shakes his head and takes a deep breath to steady his voice. "It wasn't until she died of an overdose that I bottomed out. But I was lucky. My mum's old priest found me. He took me in, got me into a 12-step group, got me work. He saved my life. And in the process I found my own call to serve God and my community." He smiles softly. "I've been sober eight years this past November, and received my ordination four and a half years ago. That's when I came to Storybrooke to take over the parish here."

Emma swallows hard and blinks her eyes against the rising tears. "I shouldn't have assumed. I'm sorry."

"You have nothing to be sorry for. I understand. And I didn't tell you all this to earn your sympathy or your pity. I've told the same story hundreds of times at meetings, and I told it to you for the same reason I tell it to them—to give you hope. If someone as fucked up as I was can remake their life the way I have, so can you. So can anyone." He smiles, and her heart skips a beat.

Could she really find the kind of peace in life that he's found? It's still hard to believe, but he makes her want to take that leap of faith.

"I'm always here if you ever need to talk," he says. "You know that, don't you?"

"Yeah." She nods. "I do."

A week later he tells her that she and Henry are welcome to spend time together in the church rec-room, if they ever want privacy from being watched by Regina and the gossips who report to her. He hands her a set of keys to the church, and she looks up at him in wonder. "You really trust me with these?"

"Of course I do. And not just because you're sheriff, though that doesn't hurt." He winks, and she feels a tingle of excitement in her gut that she hasn't felt since Graham.

At that thought she looks away. She's not ready to take a chance like that again. Not yet. But she's still glad to be a friend.

~ ~ ~ 

In early February Emma confesses to Killian that she lied to Henry about his father.

Killian refrains from speaking as she tells him the real story—a story that, she admits, she hasn't told anyone, ever.

He tries to stay calm and collected, but it's hard when all he wants to do is track down the son of a bitch who hurt her and punch him in the face. Not a very charitable attitude. He'll have to pray for forgiveness later. Right now he just wants to be angry that any man dared treat Emma like that.

"He gave this to me," she says, fingering the swan pendant she wears around her neck. "I kept it to remind me never to trust anyone like that again. But now that I've found a home here, I'm starting to wonder if it's time to believe in people again. Maybe I'm ready. I don't know."

"I hope you are," he says. "You deserve a place where you can feel safe. You've earned it." On impulse he rolls up his sleeve and shows her the tattoo on his arm.

"Milah," she reads. "Was she the one you told me about? The one who—"

"Who died of an overdose." He nods. "This reminds me daily of how much I've lost. But it also reminds me of how much I've overcome, and it drives me to help others find a way out of their own pain. Maybe that's what your swan can be for you."

Her smile is soft and thoughtful. "Yeah. Maybe it can."

Later she tells him that she's worried about a stranger that showed up in town who seems suspicious. He can't help but laugh.

"Not so long ago you were that suspicious stranger, darling. Maybe he deserves a chance, too."

She smiles and rolls her eyes. "Yeah, yeah. Right again, Jones."

"It's a talent." 

~ ~ ~ 

Emma watches intently as Killian sits with Henry at a table in the church rec room teaching him to fold a perfect long-flying paper airplane. He has a natural rapport with Henry that she would have killed for a few months ago.

They way they lean over the paper together, carefully making perfect straight creases, sets her tingling in a not-at-all maternal way. She's been attracted to Killian lots of times (too many times), but she had no idea how much of a turn-on seeing him get along with Henry would be.

When she drops Henry back at his house later that afternoon she has to go for a long drive around town with the windows rolled down, letting the cold winter air wash over her until she shivers.

She's still getting a handle on her relationship with her son and her new job. She doesn't have time for a boyfriend—especially one she'd have to share with God. That's just not in the cards, no matter how much her body might want it.

 

tbc


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! I'm working on part 3, but it's at least a few days out.

"I screwed up. I don't know what I was thinking," says Emma, looking dejected as she clutches her cup of coffee. "I should know better than to go up against Regina. She always has the upper hand. And now who knows how long it'll be before she lets me see Henry again?"

Killian sighs, wishing there's more he can do to help her. But if there's anything he's learned from his time in recovery, it's that you have to own your mistakes and learn from them, and calling Regina out on her use of funds at a public meeting had definitely been a mistake. "I can't blame you for mistrusting Regina's motives. She's not a good person. I saw what she did to Graham, and I've seen how troubled Henry is by her actions. But you're right, you did screw up."

Emma huffs. "Gee, thanks."

Killian shakes his head. "That's the thing, Swan. We all screw up. This isn't irreparable. As long as Henry still wants to be in your life and you still want to be in his, you'll find a way. It'll just take time. Be patient. Work hard. Keep a positive attitude. You'll make it through."

"Yeah, because I'm known for my bright and sunny attitude." She glares at him. He only smiles back. She's one of the most resilient people he knows. She'll manage.

"In the meantime," he says, "I can invite Henry to keep stopping by the church after school. There are plenty of games and books and crafts for him there, and it'll give me a chance to check in with him and pass messages for the two of you. I'll be your go-between."

Her eyes immediately brighten with hope. "You'd do that for me?"

"Of course. For both of you."

Her answering smile sets his heart racing, and even after he leaves her for the day he can't stop thinking about her.

Maybe holding himself back from trying for something more with Emma is a mistake. Graham wouldn't deny him a chance at something like this just because he once had feelings for her. He'd want them to both be happy—wouldn't he?

~ ~ ~

Emma doesn't like that it takes arresting Mr. Gold to get her some private time with Henry, but she'll take what she can get.

She grins over every bit of conversation he shares with her as he greedily downs his sundae at Granny's. He's doing good. Not as good as she wishes, but still good.

"And on Friday Killian is taking me to the _Jewel of the Realm_ museum," he says as he recites his plans for the week.

"Wait, what?" Emma's seen the museum—an old fashioned sailing ship that's been converted into a tourist destination down at the docks. She just didn't know that Killian has started taking Henry on outings.

"You know, the ship—"

"I know, I'm just surprised that Killian is taking you, that's all. He's a busy guy."

Henry shrugs. "I told him how I always wanted to go, and that my mom would never take me. So he said he would. I guess he goes there a lot. He really likes sailing ships. He said that next week he'll help me start building a model sailing ship, if I want."

"Really?" Emma raises her eyebrows and smiles. She'd noticed some nautical-themed art in Killian's condo when she was there, but she'd assumed it was just standard masculine décor in a seaside town like Storybrooke. It seems she was wrong. Killian's managed to surprise her yet again.

They turn to other topics for the rest of their precious half-hour, but as she walks him back to the station to meet up with Regina, Henry asks, "Emma—are you and Killian dating?"

Her heart skips a beat. "No. No. We're just friends."

"Oh. Okay." He looks thoughtful. "It wouldn't bother me if you were. He's a nice guy. I like him."

Emma nibbles her bottom lip and looks down at her feet. Did her son just give her permission to start dating Killian? "Yeah. He is."

"I haven't figured out who he was, yet," says Henry, and Emma sighs. Someday he's going to have to get over his fixation on the fairytale world. But clearly not today. Henry continues. "He's probably nobody famous. Most of the people here were probably just ordinary people. That's okay with me. I wonder if he was a sailor? Maybe that's why he likes ships so much."

Emma just nods, and wishes him a happy goodbye in spite of the scowl Regina sends her when she takes him.

~ ~ ~

Killian knows that Emma is upset and frustrated by her investigation into the disappearance of Kathryn Nolan, and he tries to be supportive. But he keeps thinking about the stranger—August—and the way he's been watching Emma.

Killian isn't sure if she's noticed it, but he has, and it troubles him almost as much as this disappearance. But he doesn't bring it up. More worry is the last thing Emma needs right now.

He's glad he didn't make a point of stirring up trouble when the worst happens. Emma calls him late in the evening. "I had to arrest Mary Margaret," she says bluntly, and he knows without asking that she's hiding her pain behind her façade of strength. 

"You don't think she did it, do you?"

"Of course not," she retorts. "But I have to do my job. Regina's still looking for excuses to drive me out of town. I'm not going to give her any. I just… don't come by tomorrow morning, okay? I need to focus on this case."

He swallows hard at the thought that his presence will prevent her from focusing, but he doesn't argue. "Alright. I'll give you some space. Is there anything I can do? Emma—I want to help. Please."

If she shuts him out now, when she needs support the most, he's not sure if she'll ever let him in. And he wants to help her more than anything.

"I… could you help check in on Henry? Make sure he's handling this okay?"

He takes a deep breath. If she still trusts him with her son, it means she's not shutting him out yet. "Absolutely. I'll keep an eye on him. Give him someone to talk to, if he needs it."

"Good."

After hanging up, Killian leans back in his chair and rubs his forehead. He can tell by now that Emma Swan's life will never be simple or easy, and if he truly wants to be a part of it he needs to accept that. Right now he can't conceive of _not_ being in her life, or Henry's. The thought of losing them shakes him to his core.

Though he's only known her for just over three months, it feels as if she's a more important part of his life than anyone else in Storybrooke. He takes a few deep, slow breaths as he ponders that thought.

He closes his eyes as the certain realization comes to him. He's falling in love with her. He has been since the first day they met. 

If only he knew whether or not she felt the same. But now isn't the time. Now she needs his help—not another problem to solve.

He respects her request and doesn't visit her the next day. Instead he waits until she's left the office. He slips inside and heads to the holding cell.

Mary Margaret sees him and stands up. "Father Jones—Emma's out, if you're looking for her."

He shakes his head. "I actually came to see you. Is there anything you need? Anything I can do for you?"

Mary Margaret's face bends into a tight smile and tears glisten in her eyes as she shakes her head. "Emma's taking care of me. I'll be alright as soon as she finds the evidence to exonerate me."

"I'm sure she will. In the meantime, I want you to know that I'm praying for you."

"Thank you, Father. This past week has certainly taught me who my real friends are." She rests her hands against the bars looking bone-weary.

"I'm glad to be among their ranks. I'm sure we'll have you out of here soon enough."

"I hope so," she whispers.

Later in the day he seeks out Henry at Granny's and sees August talking to him. Something about that man bothers him. He doesn't trust him. Maybe Emma's initial worries about him will prove correct.

As soon as August leaves, Killian joins Henry. "How are you holding up?"

Henry shrugged. "Okay, I guess. How's Emma?"

"She's worried and stressed, as anyone would be under the circumstances. But she's determined. She'll find the answers she's looking for, and Miss Blanchard will be set free. I'm sure of it."

Henry nods. "It has to work out. Emma is supposed to help them find their happy endings."

Killian taps the table restlessly and squeezes his lips together. He's never cared for all of Henry's fairytale talk. "What was that man, August, talking to you about?"

Henry's eyes dart around nervously, making the hair on the back of Killian's neck stand up with worry. "It's alright to tell me, Henry. I'm a friend."

Henry nods slowly. "He told me that he knows my stories are true, and he wants me to help him prove it to Emma."

Killian's eyebrows shoot up. This is the last thing he expected. "If he makes you uncomfortable or nervous I can tell your mother about him."

"No!" Henry shakes his head vehemently. "Don't tell my mom. I think August is okay. I really think he believes my stories. But you don't—do you?"

"I'm sorry to say I don't believe in magic, Henry—or reincarnation." Some priests might have more open minds about such things, but Killian's never given them any credence.

"I told you, it's not reincarnation. It's more like an alternate universe."

Killian taps the table some more. When he gets the chance he should pass this information along to Dr. Hopper. Henry is usually more level-headed, but this sort of talk is alarming. "That sounds more like science than magic, lad."

Henry shakes his head and looks down. "You just don't understand."

"I'm sorry. I don't. But we can still be friends, even if I don't believe, can't we?" He smiles, hoping he hasn't put a wedge between them.

"Yeah. We can. You're a good person. You treat Emma good. I like that."

Killian feels a little self-conscious about how quick Henry is to associate him with Emma—he hadn't thought he was being that obvious about his feelings. "Well, I'm glad we can still be friends. I'll see you tomorrow, alright?"

"Alright."

Later that night Killian tries calling Emma several times, but she never answers.

~ ~ ~

Emma still feels shaken after her harrowing night at Jefferson's when she locks Mary Margaret back up and heads home for a quick shower. At least she managed to convince her friend to come back—she knows she can still find evidence to set her free. Somehow. She has to. Emma only has three people in the world that matter right now, and Mary Margaret is one of them.

She stands in the shower, staring at the tiles and feeling the hot water run over her as that number, three, enters her mind, and it takes her aback to think about how much a part of her life Killian has become. He _does_ matter to her. More than she'd care to admit.

A part of her wishes he was there right now, making a pot of coffee, ready to let her vent her fears and frustrations after that insane night. God, she could use a sympathetic shoulder to cry on—some warm arms to sink into.

No. She shakes her head and squeezes her eyes shut as she finishes rinsing her hair and tries to put thoughts of Killian out of her mind. Solving the case and setting Mary Margaret free is all she has time to worry about right now, and it feels more urgent than ever now that she suspects Regina is behind it. She can figure out this thing with Killian later, once all this craziness is sorted out.

After dressing she checks her phone and sees that Killian called three times last night and left one worried-sounding text. She sighs. No. Still can't deal with this. There's nothing he can do to help—nothing that wouldn't distract her from what she really needs to be focused on.

She texts him quickly to reassure him that she's alright (though that term is becoming more and more relative every day), and that she doesn't have time for coffee today, either.

He texts back quickly that he's glad she's well and that he'll check in on Henry again. Good. That's what she really needs right now—someone to make sure Henry is okay through all this.

The day goes from bad to worse after Mary Margaret's interview with the D.A., and Emma is starting to feel more than a little desperate when August turns up and offers to help. He's not the person she'd been hoping to see, but his suggestions are helpful. Within a few hours he actually helps her find the missing pieces of the puzzle to pin this whole thing on Regina. After petitioning the local judge for a search warrant, she heads to Granny's for a late dinner, elated at her progress.

Ruby slips onto the stool beside her as she eats. After a few quick remarks about the case, Ruby says, "So, are you and your hot priest on the outs, or something? He hasn't been by for your morning coffee in a few days."

Emma almost chokes on her food. After managing to swallow she shakes her head. "No—we're not on the outs, I've just been busy with the case. And he is not _my_ priest."

Rudy tilts her head, a skeptical look on her face. "You could've fooled me. I'd kill to have a guy look at me the way Father Jones looks at you." She winces. "Poor choice of words, there. Sorry."

Emma sighs and shakes her head. "It's okay." She pauses, wondering whether or not to ask her next question, and then finally decides to go for it. "Do you really think he likes me—like that?"

"Yeah." Ruby grins. "I really think he does. I'm not sure I could handle dating a priest, but with you trying to make a life here for Henry, dating someone that respectable and reliable and stable—and hot—" She laughs and shrugs. "It might be a good fit."

Emma hadn't realized that other people had noticed how close she and Killian had become, though it shouldn't surprise her in a town this small. And Ruby has a point—just a few months ago Emma never would have considered dating a clergyman (the thought of it still freaks her out a little, until she replaces the word "clergyman" with the name "Killian"), but now the qualities he has to offer might be attractive enough to overcome her hesitations. But not yet.

"Maybe," she admits. "But not until I solve this case, once and for all."

Later that night when Killian calls, she answers. He lets her know that Henry dropped by the church for an hour after school and looked through his books on sailing ships, and then she tells him she actually talked to Henry that evening. "He and August helped me find some new evidence. It really looks like Regina set this whole thing up."

"Regina?" Killian replies. "What reason would she have to frame Mary Margaret?"

"I have no idea." Emma's head is hurting and she reaches up to massage her forehead. "But I have to follow the evidence wherever it leads."

"I'm just worried about you going up against Regina again."

Emma squeezes the phone and nods. She's worried, too. But what other choice does she have? "I can't lose Mary Margaret like this, Jones. I have to do whatever it takes."

He's silent for a moment before replying, "I understand. I'd do the same for a friend." He pauses again. "How did August get involved?"

"I don't know—he just showed up when I needed some new ideas and he gave me some. Why?"

"I'm not sure I trust him. He's been talking to Henry about his fairytale fantasies—I think he's encouraging them."

Emma frowns. "Really? That's weird. He's a little odd and aloof, I just thought it was an artistic temperament thing. But I didn't know he's been talking to Henry."

"If he's helpful, that's great. But just…be careful around him. We don't really know anything about him. Okay?"

Great. One more thing to worry about. "Okay. I will. Thanks for the heads up."

He asks one more time if there's anything he can do to help, but since asking him to come spend the night and help her relax isn't such a good idea right now, she tells him no, and they say goodnight.

She has a big day tomorrow—she can't let this "will we or won't we" thing with Killian get in her way.

~ ~ ~ 

Killian is shocked when, after answering the knock on his door the next evening, he finds Emma standing outside his condo.

"Can I come in?" she asks, and she brushes past him just after he nods. She looks windblown and flushed and her eyes are shining and wild.

He knew she expected today to be a hard one, but he can't make out what's going through her mind as she slips off her coat and sinks onto the couch.

"Swan? What's going on?" He hovers in front of the couch, unsure of whether he ought to sit down beside her or not.

She shakes her head and runs her fingers through her hair. "I have no idea anymore. The past two days have been the most awful, terrifying, confusing, ridiculous days of my life, and I feel like I have to have been dreaming because there is no way the real world could throw so much crap at me in such a short time. But it did. Is it okay if I just…chill out here for a little bit? I need to unwind and maybe vent a little. Is that okay?"

He blinks his wide eyes. "Yes. Of course. Certainly. Do want a bottle of water, or some hot cocoa?"

She looks up at him with imploring eyes. "Can I have both?"

He nods and heads to the adjoining kitchen to put the kettle on and fish a bottle out of the fridge. He tosses her the bottle and perches on the arm of a nearby chair while she cracks it open and guzzles half all at once. "Can I just ask," he says gently, hoping he's not pushing too much, "what happened with the case today?"

Emma meets his eyes, looking a little dazed, and shakes her head. "Kathryn Nolan is alive. She turned up in an alley near Granny's a couple of hours ago, covered in dirt and in shock. She's sleeping it off in the hospital right now. I released Mary Margaret an hour ago and she's probably home by now, enjoying her freedom."

Killian lets out a long, slow breath, processing the unexpected revelation. No wonder Emma is in such a state. "Well, this is certainly the best possible outcome we could have hoped for," he says at last.

"You got that right. But there was still a kidnapping and frame up and I've still got to solve it."

"But at least no one's been killed."

Emma nods. "Thank God for that." She winces. "Oops. Sorry."

"Not at all. I've certainly been praying for a positive outcome, and this is better by far than any I could have expected. Thanking God is entirely appropriate." He smiles at her attempt to respect his religious sensibilities. The issue of religion is certainly the biggest roadblock to their relationship, but he hopes it won't be too much of an issue. He doesn't expect her to share his beliefs, and she's already demonstrated on many occasions that she respects them, even if she doesn't always understand them. He thinks that will be enough.

"Good," she replies, but shakes her head. "I feel like I'm out of my depth with this case. Tracking down bad guys on the run is something I've got down pat. I know how they operate—the ways their minds work. But untangling a complicated criminal conspiracy is way out of my comfort zone."

Killian spreads his arms wide. "There's a first time for everything, Swan."

That manages to win a smile out of her. "I'm sure you'll manage," he says. "And there isn't so much urgency now. You can take your time to sort things out. I know you can do it."

"That makes one of us." She sighs.

He knows that she's more capable than she'll admit to herself, but he doesn't expect he'll be able to convince her of such quite yet. The kettle begins to whistle so he heads back to the kitchen to mix up her cup of cocoa.

She smiles again when he hands it to her. This time he sits beside her on the couch, his whole body tingling at the chance to be near her again after days of being apart. He watches as she takes a sip of her cocoa, and her body relaxes.

"You remembered the cinnamon," she says.

"I have a keen eye for detail."

She takes a few more sips before saying, "I hope I never have another week like this again. I don't if I can take it."

"It has been rather extremely horrible, hasn't it?"

"You don't know the half of it." She shakes her head.

"There was worse than finding a heart in a box and arresting your best friend? I certainly hope not." He raises his eyebrows.

"Maybe not worse—but just as bad. Like Mary Margaret trying to escape because someone—probably Regina—slipped a skeleton key into her cell. And I had a fight with August because I thought he'd helped Regina hide evidence, even though he totally didn't—I'm blaming that one on you, by the way, for making me paranoid about him." She glares at him.

He squeezes his lips together and glances down at his lap, feeling a little ashamed for letting his feelings for Emma heighten his mistrust of August.

Emma continues, "And there was that insane thing with Jefferson…" her voice trails off and he notices her grip on her mug growing tighter and new tension in her frame.

He frowns. "Who's Jefferson? What happened?"

She shakes her head and takes another sip before answering. "The whole things still feels so surreal. I remember it happening, but I have trouble believing it."

"Believing what?" If this Jefferson fellow hurt Emma… No. He needs to hear her out before letting his passions get the best of him.

"Jefferson is…this crazy rich guy who lives in a big house on the hill. And when I say crazy, I'm not exaggerating. I think…" She pauses. "I think the thing that scared me the most about him was that I could see Henry turning out like that, if he doesn't get over this fairytale thing of his."

Killian narrows his eyes. "How do you mean?"

Emma took a deep breath. "Jefferson was convinced that he's the Mad Hatter from _Alice in Wonderland_ , and that he's from some sort of parallel universe or something, and that he has a daughter here but she doesn't remember him and other people are raising her." She shakes her head, and Killian can understand why this would upset her so much—it truly is eerily similar to Henry's fantasies. Emma continues, "He told me that I have magic. That I'm the only person here who does, and he wanted me to enchant his hat so that he could use it to create a portal to another world. It would have been bad enough if he was just screwing with me, but…you know that thing I have with lies?" She looks at him intently.

Killian nods. "You nearly always know when people are lying to you."

Her voice drops to a low, intense tone. "He believed every word he was saying." She's clearly still rattled by the incident. She sets down her cocoa and rubs her face.

"That sounds like a frightening encounter. Have you contacted the hospital to see if you can have him committed?"

Emma shakes her head again and rolls her eyes. "That wasn't high on my list of priorities. I had to get out of there with Mary Margaret and get her back to her cell before anyone noticed she was missing."

Killian's heart skips a beat. "What do you mean _get Mary Margaret out of there_?"

Her jaw tightens and she looks away. "When she was trying to escape, Jefferson kind of found her in the woods and kidnapped her. And then he kind of tried to kidnap me, too."

Killian's jaw drops and his heart starts racing. "He _kidnapped_ you? Did he hurt you? Are you alright?" He reaches out to her, fear piercing him to his core at the thought that he came so close to losing her without even knowing it. "Emma…?"

She raises defiant eyes to meet his gaze. "Don't go all _big protective man_ on me. I handled it. I got us out. I can take care of myself."

"Obviously," he says, gesturing at her sitting on his couch. "That doesn't mean I shouldn't worry about you. I'm allowed to worry about the people that are important to me, aren't I?"

Her expression softens and she looks at him with wide, vulnerable eyes. "I'm important to you?"

He slowly reaches out and rests his hand over hers on the cushion between then. His heart is in his throat and adrenaline still courses through his veins out of belated fear, but his voice is steady and sure. "Yes. You are important to me, Emma. You and Henry both."

She holds his gaze for a moment, her lips barely parted as if she's searching for words. When she finally answers her voice is barely above a whisper. "You're important to me, too."

He feels the electricity in the air between them, and he notices her eyes darting down to his lips a moment before she raises her hand to his cheek and leans toward him. He closes his eyes as their lips meet, a hot thrill coursing through his body. His barely-parted lips move against hers, and suddenly his mind is filled with a wave of images.

He's standing on the deck of the Jewel of the Realm, but its sails are open and billowing above him. Milah is laughing in his arms, but she wears strange clothes unlike anything he's ever seen. Mr. Gold is glaring at him with a mottled, scaly face. 

Killian gasps and pulls back from the kiss to rest his forehead briefly against Emma's temple before lifting his eyes to meet hers.

She looks worried. "Hey—I didn't cross a line, did I?" she asks, her voice thick with anxiety.

He shakes his head quickly and raises his hand to push her hair back from her face. "No. You didn't. I just…" He can make no sense of those images. They must have been some sort of panic response to taking this step for the first time since Milah's death. But he wants this. He has to push through the panic and deal with it. "Emma, what is this to you? This thing between us?"

~ ~ ~ 

Killian's question hangs in the air between them, and she feels as if she can see his whole heart in his eyes as he looks at her. No one's ever looked at her like that, before. It's overwhelming.

Her eyes veer downward and she drops her hand. What is this to her? She'd wanted to kiss him. She still wants to kiss him. But it's more than that.

"I'm sorry," he says, breaking the silence. "I shouldn't… the timing is all wrong. Forget it. You don't have to answer." He sounds more nervous than a man used to speaking in front of a whole congregation should ever be, and it endears him to her all the more.

"No, I want to. We do need to figure this out." She raises her eyes again, her heart pounding. "I've been thinking about us, lately," she admits. Even at her most stressful moments he kept popping into her mind. That has to mean something, doesn't it? "I've been trying to figure it out."

He swallows, and she hears the hope in his voice. "You have been?"

She nods. "Yeah. I just…" The way he looks at her leaves her tongue-tied. She's met a lot of men over the years who wanted to fuck her, but Killian is one of the few who ever just wanted _her_. He cares about her for everything she is—warts and all. She doesn't know how to handle that. "I'm no good at relationships, Killian. I haven't really tried in more than five years. I'm scared of screwing up our friendship."

He takes a deep breath. "You're not the only one who's scared, Emma. I understand. If you want me to back off and go back to being nothing more than friends, I can do that."

Even with this he respects her. God—why can't she just let herself have this? Doesn't she deserve something good after all the crap she's been dealing with lately? "No—I—I don't know if that's what I want." She hovers with her mouth open, her head spinning. She's afraid to move forward, but she doesn't want to turn back, either.

"Well—we could—maybe—just give it try?" he suggests tentatively.

She raises an eyebrow. "What do you mean by give it a try?"

"A date," he says breathlessly. "Let me take you to dinner. Someplace nice. We'll spend the evening together and see how it goes. If you want to back down after that, I'll respect your wishes. Or, if things go well, we can keep it rolling and see where it goes."

It seems so simple. So easy. Yet her heart feels ready to leap out of her chest. "Okay," she says quietly. "A date. We can do that."

His smile makes him look so young—so full of hope. She can hardly believe it's real—that _she's_ the one making him look like that.

"Good. Good," he says, grinning. "Tomorrow?"

"Um, no. I'm actually throwing Mary Margaret a welcome home party tomorrow at our place. You're invited, by the way." She finds herself echoing his smile. It feels good.

He nods. "And I'll happily attend. But that's not exactly a date, is it?"

"No. It's not."

"Day after tomorrow?"

"Okay. Yeah. Let's do it then." She smiles and grips his hand, suddenly wanting this more than she's wanted anything other than her son back in her life. She can make this work. Stranger things have happened. Henry and Mary Margaret are always prodding her to have faith—to believe in something. Maybe this is a leap of faith she's ready to take.

"Alright then," he says, his eyes bright with excitement. "I'll find a place and make the plans. Day after tomorrow."

He looks so ridiculously happy that she can't help herself. She leans forward and kisses him again.

~ ~ ~

When Emma's lips meet his again, the visions return like a tidal wave. He can see his whole life flashing before his eyes, even while his mouth moves against hers.

He remembers. All of it. From his impoverished youth to his father abandoning him; from his days in the navy to Liam's death outside Neverland; from meeting Milah for the first time to holding her in his arms as the Dark One crushed her heart; from the endless years in Neverland to the brief, murderous spree in the Enchanted Forest that finally brought him into Cora's orbit. All of it floods back into his mind, clashing harshly with everything he's been living these past years.

He gasps and falls away from Emma's kiss. She stares up at him, so nervous and so achingly beautiful.

In that instant he knows—the savior Cora spoke of—the one intended to break the curse. It's Emma.

All he ever wanted was revenge and sweet death. He was never looking for something new to live for. But somehow he's found her all the same.

He can't stand the fear of rejection that plays in her eyes, so he dips his head to kiss her again.

Nothing has ever felt so sweet as when she opens her mouth to him, wrapping her hand behind his head to pull him closer. He kisses her hungrily—desperate to find an anchor to steady him in the midst of the terror of waking after twenty-eight years of blissful ignorance. She's the savior—perhaps she can save _him_ , too.

After a few more heated moments she pulls back, gasping for breath. He leans into her, nuzzling her cheek with his nose, striving to stay connected to the only thing in this mad world that still makes sense.

Emma likes her lips. "Wow. You really don't kiss like a priest."

A smile pricks at his lips. "I wasn't always a priest, love," he murmurs, knowing full well that it wasn't the priest kissing her—it was the pirate.

She smiles but pulls back a little farther. "Maybe we should save this for our date?"

Her words bring him crashing back down. He's still trapped in this cursed world—a world where the truth is hidden behind a carefully crafted façade. And she's not ready to believe the truth.

After a moment of near panic he makes the easy choice—to play along. To pretend that nothing's changed, though the truth is quite the opposite.

He nods. "You're right. I got a bit carried away. It's…been a long time."

"Don't worry. I liked it." Her smile is teasing and seductive and holy gods, what is he doing? How is he going to lie to her? But he can't possibly tell her the truth.

He forces a smile. "Me too."

She sighs. "I should probably get back to Mary Margaret, now. She needs a little friend time to help her unwind after this shitty week."

"I understand." He reluctantly lets go of her so that she can stand and pull her coat back on. He walks her to the door, feeling dazed by a world that feels at once familiar and alien.

On the stoop she turns back to him. "So, I'll see you tomorrow?"

"You most certainly will."

She leans up to brush another short, sweet kiss against his lips before heading back to her car, and it is that kiss, combined with the shy smile she sends his way before pulling her car away, that convince him of the painful truth: he loves her.

He's only just found himself again, and she has no idea who he really is, but he loves her. He knows it in the very core of his being.

He sinks back to his couch and rests his head in his hand. What the hell is he supposed to do, now?

 

tbc


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! I really appreciate all your support and comments. I’m going to try to get part 4 out by Wednesday, because I’ll be at a conference Thursday-Saturday, but I can’t guarantee it.

Killian stands on the dock, shivering in the dark. He pulls his coat tighter around him and steps a little closer to the gangplank leading up to the _Jewel of the Realm_ museum.

It's her, all right. His Jolly Roger. No wonder he always loved coming here, though why Regina brought her here at all is beyond him.

It hurts his heart to see her reduced to nothing but a gimmicky tourist trap. He walks up the gangplank and rests his palm against her frigid hull, feeling grounded for the first time since Emma left. 

A little work with a screwdriver and a hammer is enough to break the cheap lock on the gate. He steps onto the deck and breathes deep of the sea air. He looks up at the stars but they bring him no comfort—they aren't the stars he memorized as a young officer, nor the stars he learned by heart during his centuries in Neverland. They are something new that he'll have to learn for the first time.

He descends below decks, lighting the way with a small flashlight. At every turn there is another inaccurate and far-too-cute display or placard, and he sneers and frowns. None of this brings him comfort—it only reminds him of how much has changed.

Finally he enters the captain's quarters and pulls down the velvet ropes that cordon off the display of posed mannequins hovered in some grotesque semblance of life at sea. All his things are gone. His books, his maps, his logs, the bedding Milah sewed with her own hands. Every trace of his old life has been swept away by tourist displays, and he's not sure whether he wants to rage or weep.

The life Regina gave him was a good one—there's no denying it. But it wasn't real. It wasn't him. And now, staring around his defaced cabin, he feels it all the more. He crouches in front of one of the storage cabinets under the windows and pulls it open. Some random items are stored there, and he pushes them out of the way, feeling for the false back to the cabinet. His fingers find the hidden latch and he pulls the panel away. Shining the light into the hidden compartment, his heart leaps. Regina left him something after all.

He pulls out the small trove of items, laying them out on the cabin floor to marvel. To remember.

His brother's medallion from the sextant case. His sketchbook filled with portraits of his friends and loved ones. His private diary. His flask. And, finally, his cuff and hook.

He holds the old hook between the pincers of his modern replacement and runs his fingers along the smooth metal curve. What would Emma think of him if she saw him wearing this deadly instrument? He closes his eyes and shakes his head. He tries not to think of Emma, but he can't stop.

How could he fall in love with someone when he wasn't even his true self? Is it real at all, or just another illusion?

He gathers all his old belongings and stuffs them into the backpack he brought with him. All save the flask, which he tucks into the pocket of his coat.

He walks quickly away from the docks and heads directly toward the one place he knows he shouldn't go—Gold's house.

It is a long walk, but he doesn't mind. He doesn't want to sleep tonight, for fear of what he might dream.

When he reaches the imposing old house he stands across the street, staring. What now? He's here, the crocodile lays helpless and asleep inside, and he carries a deadly hook in his bag. He can finish the job in a matter of minutes. Or he can creep into the basement and start a fire that would fill the house with deadly smoke within minutes and burn the old imp to a crisp.

Either way it will be easy. It will be simple. He will finally have the revenge he's waited so long for.

He looks up at the sky and blinks away rising tears. How can he murder a man in his sleep? He remembers turning his life over to God just as clearly as he remembers Milah dying at the Dark One's hand. He remembers his fulfillment and contentment when he took orders and became a priest. These things might not be real, but he _remembers them_ , and they've changed him.

Bringing justice to a demon is one thing, but for all he knows Gold is just as ignorant of his past self as Killian was only a few hours ago. 

He's a man of God. He can't be a murderer, too.

_But I was a murderer first_ , his mind whispers to him. _Have I really changed?_

With a shaking hand he pulls the flask from his pocket and bites the cork to pop it loose. The familiar scent of rum fills his nostrils and he breaths deep. It's still full. He lifts the flask to his lips and tips it ever so slightly. 

A few precious drops of rum swirl over his tongue even as memories of proudly declaring his sobriety at hundreds of meetings rise in his mind.

With a cry of frustration he flings the flask into the gutter and stalks away, not looking back.

~ ~ ~ 

After a few hours of troubled sleep, Killian rises at his usual early hour. He goes for a long run through town, though he avoids his usual route, which would lead him directly past Gold's house. He can't face that temptation again. Not yet. Not until he's made up his mind.

The physical exertion helps ease his tension, as does a hot shower afterward, but he is still troubled by who and what he is in this new reality.

He dresses in his usual clerical shirt, complete with white collar, and stares at himself in the mirror. Is this garb a lie? Or is it as real as the leather he wore for so many years? Or, in the end, are both options nothing more than costumes for roles he's chosen to play?

He closes his eyes and shakes his head. There are no answers to be found here.

He goes to the church to look in on the preschool that runs out of one of the classrooms three mornings a week and to organize the shelves in the food pantry in preparation for the weekly food distribution to needy families. These are the sorts of things Hook would have approved of, but from a distance with a smirk on his face. However, Killian can't _not_ do them—there are people in need out there, and who the hell else is there to help them? Remembering his past doesn't excuse him from his present obligations. (Even if he wanted out, he knows he'd feel guilty for turning his back on these people.)

He draws the line, however, at preparing any material for the upcoming Sunday services. He doesn't have it in him to preach, right now.

He leaves the church just before nine, and, as if there's a magnetic pull that he simply can't resist, he makes his way to Gold's shop.

He can't make a decision about the crocodile until he knows for certain whether or not the man remembers his old self.

Gold certainly seems shocked when Killian is his first customer of the day.

"Well now. Father Jones—I do believe this is the first time you've ever deigned to cross my threshold. To what do I owe the honor?" Gold smiles, resting his palms on the handle of his ever-present cane.

Like more than half of Storybrooke, Killian pays monthly rent on the church to Mr. Gold. Though he's never had any open conflicts with his landlord, he's always sensed a feeling of particular animosity from the man. Now he just needs to find out whether it stems from Gold's generalized negative attitude toward life, or from memories of their old enmity.

Killian forces a smile, though he can't imagine it's a very sunny one, and replies, "I'm looking to buy a gift for a friend, and I thought your shop might be a good place to start my search."

"Well," says Gold, "my jewelry case is right over here. There are lots of lovely pieces to choose from." He steps over to a glass display counter.

"I didn't say my friend was a woman." Killian's eyes narrow.

"You didn't have to. I can read between the lines." He pulled a key from his pocket and unlocked the case from behind, then stooped to remove one of the black velvet display pieces holding matching necklace and earrings with sparkling aquamarine stones set in silver. Gold smirks. "Take a look at this. I think the color will compliment her eyes."

Killian frowns. This was a bad idea. The man is trying to provoke him into some sort of emotional display, but he has no intention of giving him the satisfaction. "I don’t think it's her style," he says nonchalantly, raising an eyebrow, daring Gold to push him.

"I'm sure we can find something more to her taste," Gold replies, slipping the jewelry set back into the display case just as the bell on his door rings.

Killian glances back and his eyes widen in surprise as Henry skids to a shocked halt in front of him. "Killian!"

Concerned, Killian steps toward him. "Aren't you supposed to be in school, lad? Does your mother know where you are?"

"N—No!" Henry waves his hands in front of him. "Don't tell her, please. I want to get a welcome home present for Miss Blanchard, and I know my mom will never let me. That's why I snuck away from school. I'm sorry. I really am."

Killian sighs. He can't imagine what life has been like for the lad growing up under Regina's thumb, with the whole town frozen in time around him. New sympathy and understanding wells in his chest. He wishes to tell Henry right now that he believes—that he knows. But he won't draw the boy into lying to Emma for him, and he's not ready for her to know the truth. Not until she's more ready to believe it. Bringing up the boy's mother had been the instinct of the priest. What the boy needs now is a pirate.

He stands just in front of Henry and crouches a touch to meet the lad's eyes. "Hey now—I'll not tell your mum. I just want you to keep up in your studies so you can get into a good university someday. That's all. But it's a good instinct to get a gift for Miss Blanchard. I know how much she means to you. In fact, I'll help you pick one out. What do you say?" He smiles.

Henry relaxes and nods. "Yeah, thanks. That would be great."

"At your service, lad." Killian winks and straightens up, glancing around the shop. "Now, what do you think Miss Blanchard might like?" 

Henry suggests a school bell for her desk, and Gold directs them to a display of several hand bells, eyeing Killian warily. So much for finding out more about Gold's memories—or lack of them. Killian won't risk putting Henry in harm's way.

As they look at the bells Killian wonders whether Mary Margaret truly is Snow White, as Emma once told him? Does that make that adulterous bloke David Nolan Prince Charming? He shudders at the thought.

Gold disappears to the back of the shop, and a few moments later August Booth emerges from the curtained back room. Even as Killian registers his shock, August and Henry meet each other's eyes and August shrugs in a clear gesture of defeat. Killian knows in his gut that August sent Henry in here to distract Gold. He's using the boy for some unknown purpose.

"Did you come in the wrong door, mate?" Killian asks, unable to hide the suspicion in his voice.

"An honest mistake," August says quickly. "I'm just here to browse, like any other customer." With that he turns his back on Killian and Henry to start examining the crowded shelves with feigned interest.

Killian waits as Henry makes his purchase and then turns to leave the shop with the boy.

"You never found something for your friend," Gold calls after him.

"Some other time," Killian calls back, determined to walk Henry to school himself. He doesn't want to leave August another opening to draw the lad into whatever mischief he has planned. 

~ ~ ~

Emma grins when Killian arrives at ten sharp with her coffee. He smiles back but she sees dark circles under his eyes and he doesn't look like he shaved.

"You look tired, are you okay?" she asks.

"I'm fine," he shakes his head. "Just didn't sleep well. I had a lot on my mind."

She'd had plenty on her mind, too, after what happened between them. "Good things, I hope?"

He nods, wearing a soft smile. "Very good." 

His tone is flirtatious but for the first time since meeting him something feels off—disingenuous. Emma lets it pass—it's probably just nerves kicking in.

She changes the subject. "Hey, weird new case this morning. Someone broke into the _Jewel of the Realm_ over night."

He sits up straighter, his eyes going wide. "Why would anyone do that?"

Emma shrugs and shakes her head. "Who knows? The manager said nothing was missing—it was just some minor vandalism. They should be up and running again tomorrow. My bet is on a couple of bored teenagers looking for a thrill."

Killian nods solemnly. "Which is exactly why—"

"—the youth groups at your church are so important," Emma finishes for him with a smile. "I think I've heard that one before."

"A few times." He winks, and everything seems normal again.

"Anyway, they don't have any security cameras, so I don't think I'll catch the perps. They'll just have to invest in a stronger lock." Emma rolls her eyes. The citizens of Storybrooke have proven to be almost uniformly lax in personal security matters. She intends to do something about that now that she knows Regina can sneak into her place with impunity.

"Right now I’m just waiting for Kathryn Nolan to wake up so I can go question her," Emma says.

Killian nods. "Do you think that Jefferson bloke might have had anything to do with her disappearance?"

His accent seems stronger than usual, and she narrows her eyes. Maybe sleepiness brings it out? She shakes her head. "I don't think it fits his m.o., but I drove by his place this morning anyway. No sign of him. Looks like he's gone into hiding. Anyway, I still think Regina had something to do with all this. I just need to find the evidence."

"I hope you find it, but Regina knows how to watch out for herself."

Emma clenches her jaw and nods. She certainly does, but Emma thinks she's starting to learn her tricks.

Killian excuses himself a few minutes later, saying that he needs to meet with a parishioner who is in emotional distress—maybe that's why he's been on edge. As he leaves he says, "Oh—and I saw August hanging around Henry again before school. Do you think it's a good idea to let him spend so much time with the lad?"

Emma takes a deep breath. She doesn't know August as well as she knows Killian, but so far he's been nothing but trustworthy. She folds her arms across her chest and raises an eyebrow. Is Killian _jealous_? She wouldn't have picked him out as the jealous type, and she doesn't think she likes it. "I think I can choose my own friends just fine, Jones."

He dips his head, looking away. "Of course. I'm sorry. I overstepped my bounds."

"Okay." She sighs. Maybe it's not her he's getting possessive over—maybe he really is just looking out for Henry. "Next time I get a chance I'll talk to Henry about it, just to make sure."

Killian seems satisfied with that answer, and he leaves, promising to see her that night.

A short while later Emma gets a call from Whale to let her know that Kathryn is awake. But even after questioning her, she still doesn't have the answers she is looking for, and she heads home to prepare for the party unsatisfied by her progress.

~ ~ ~

Killian is on edge from the moment he arrives at the party for Mary Margaret. After giving her the flowers he brought as a welcome home gift, he fades to the edge of the crowd. August is hanging around Henry again, and Gold lingers in the shadows. Neither of those facts will leave him with any peace for the duration of the event—instead he finds himself longing for a drink.

He tries to distract himself by guessing who all the guests might have been back in the Enchanted Forest. 

Granny and Ruby are mysteries to him, as is Dr. Hopper, but if Mary Margaret is truly Snow White than he can hazard a guess as to the identity of all the short blokes.

He's relieved when, not much later, Henry has to leave. Anything to get the boy away from August. That man seems to know things—things the amnesiacs of Storybrooke aren't supposed to know.

Killian witnesses a tense exchange between Emma and David Nolan at the door before Emma politely asks David to walk Henry home for her.

He frowns. Clearly Regina put the star-crossed lovers in their cursed lives to torture them for past slights. But why did she grant Killian a life of relative satisfaction and quiet service to the community? What strange pleasure did it give her to see the pirate turned into a priest?

God, he wants a drink.

"Father Jones."

Killian turns to find Gold standing right behind him. 

Gold smiles. "I'm sorry we weren't able to find a gift for your friend this morning."

Killian smiles back, determined not to let the man get under his skin. "I'm still just browsing. No hurry."

Gold taps the handle of his cane, looking at Killian thoughtfully. "Well, in the meantime, I've recently come into possession of another item that might be of interest to you. A flask of antique origins. Simple but lovely design. Very understated in its elegance."

Killian's heart skips a beat. The flask he threw away outside Gold's house. _He knows_. The damned crocodile _knows_ , and he's trying to find out if Killian knows, too.

He keeps his face and voice as neutral as he can manage. "While I appreciate the thought, you must know I don't drink. I'm not sure what use I'd have for a flask."

Gold's gaze is piercing. "It's a flask often carried by naval officers. I understand you collect nautical memorabilia. But if it's of no interest to you, I'm sure I can find another buyer."

Killian clenches and unclenches his jaw. He wants to throttle the demon right here and now. God would forgive him for killing a devil, wouldn't He?

_But Emma won't_.

He calms himself with a slow breath. "I'm afraid you'll have to. I've no interest in a flask."

Gold nods and reminds him to come by the shop next time he needs a gift before heading off to mingle with the other guests.

Killian's head is throbbing and he can't stop clenching his fist. What now? Does he follow the man home and do the job there? Does he announce himself so Gold knows exactly what he's dying for, or does he do it quietly and quickly?

His eyes drift to where Emma stands.

Can he even do this at all?

Many a time in Neverland he'd wondered what Milah would have thought of him. If she would have approved of his quest for vengeance. In his more lucid moments he'd admitted to himself that she probably wouldn't have liked it. She would have wanted him to find happiness elsewhere. To live, instead of merely surviving for the sake of his revenge.

And right before him stands all the reason he's ever needed to live—all the reason he's ever needed to move on from Milah and start anew.

But he still doesn't know if it's real. How can it be?

Emma turns to meet his eyes from across the room and smiles, her face lighting up like a bright star in the dark sky.

It feels real. Whenever she looks at him, it feels as real as anything he's ever known. 

And if he kills Gold he'll lose her. She'll never forgive him for such an act—he knows her well enough by know to know that.

He needs a drink, damn it!

He unclenches his fist and makes his way across the room to her. "I'm afraid I'm going to have to leave early," he says in a low voice. "I've some business to attend to at the church."

"Oh, okay." She nods. "I understand. But, thanks for coming. I know Mary Margaret really appreciated your support while she was locked up. And so do I."

"It was my pleasure," he says sincerely. He'd do it again if he had to.

"We're still on for tomorrow?" she says in a voice just above a whisper.

He should say no. He should make an excuse. Every time he sees her he wants to tell her the truth, and a date will only make things worse. But he can't. He needs to spend time with her. He needs to be sure this thing is real. "Absolutely. I'll call you with the details tomorrow. I'm afraid I won't be able to do coffee—I've a busy weekend to plan for."

"That's fine. I'll just see you tomorrow night, then."

He nods and says goodbye. He can feel her eyes on him as he walks out the door. God, he wants it to be real. Milah wouldn't begrudge him this, any more than Graham. He knows it.

Please let it be real.

With thoughts of Gold—Rumplestiltskin—and August and Emma all swirling madly in his head his desire for a drink grows stronger than ever.

But the priest in him won't succumb, no matter how much the pirate wants to. And, fortunately, he has help.

He arrives at the church just in time to help the group leader set up for that night's 12-step meeting.

After the other attendees arrive and the leader opens the meeting with prayer and introductory statements, he says, "This meeting is a Step Study. The Twelve Steps represent a spiritual discipline which can provide a way out of destructive behavior and an opportunity to improve our relationship with our higher power, Jesus Christ. Today's meeting focuses on step four: We have made a searching and fearless moral inventory of ourselves." He continues by inviting all the attendees to share their thoughts and experiences regarding this step.

It feels like fate that the group leader chose this particular step to discuss. He's long since mastered step four as a priest, but the pirate has more than a little self-examining to do.

When his turn arrives, he looks around at all the familiar yet unfamiliar faces and takes a deep breath before speaking. "My name is Killian, and I'm an alcoholic."

After the group greets him, he continues. "I've been sober for more than eight years, but last night I almost took a drink. And tonight I felt the urge again. I… I recently came back into contact with an old acquaintance who perpetrated some great wrongs against me a long time ago. All the old feelings of anger and hatred have come back stronger than I ever imagined, and my cravings returned along with them." He shakes his head. Why is he even doing this? Why shouldn't he take a drink, if he wants one? Why shouldn't he kill the crocodile?

_Because that's not who I am anymore. I found peace, here. I want that peace back._

He's knows his epiphany is true. He's glad he remembers the truth. Knowing the truth he can protect his friends. He can protect Emma, and help her achieve her destiny. But he misses the peace. Even as a priest he didn't have peace all the time, but he had it as often as not.

When he was Hook, he was never at peace.

Knowing how peace feels—knowing how valuable it is—he's ready to choose it again, even if it means turning his back on everything that drove Hook for so long.

"If I'm making a searching and fearless moral inventory, I have to admit that I've never forgiven this man for what he did," he says. "I will always believe that he needs to face justice for what he did, but I also need to let go of that hatred. I need to forgive him. But I… I don't know if I can, after what he did. I don't know how to forgive him for something so vast. I need to trust the arm of God to carry me through this one." He nods slowly, and sees all the supportive faces watching him. This feels right. This feels like the path he needs to be on.

That doesn't change the fact that Gold remembers the truth, too. Which means he's a danger—a danger that only Killian knows about. 

tbc


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next chapter is probably a week out—I just have too much going on to get it done any faster. In the meantime, thanks for your continued support. It means a lot.

Killian divides the next day between his normal duties and keeping an eye on Gold. Interestingly enough, for several hours in the afternoon Gold follows August around town. It seems that Gold distrusts August as much as Killian does, though Killian isn't yet ready to think that the enemy of his enemy should be his friend.

Eventually August returns to his room at Granny's and Gold returns to his home, so Killian gives up the spying for the day and heads back to his condo to get ready for his date.

His head still tells him that he ought to cancel, but his heart won't let him.

Emma texts him to pick her up at the station. He finds her waiting in the parking lot, wearing a black skirt and a soft white sweater under her warm black coat. She looks beautiful.

His heart races as they drive, and he asks her why she wanted to meet at the station. 

"Well, I was doing a little work," she says, "but mostly I just didn't want Mary Margaret to know I was going on a date."

Killian frowns. "Do you—are you—not happy about this?"

"No, no. That's not it. I just… she's had a rough time of it with David and I don't want to rub this in her face. Especially when we're not exactly sure where this is going, yet."

Killian nods, but his heart sinks a little. He hadn't thought he was as deep in this as he is, yet, but hearing this confirmation still hurts. He knows he can't rush this, and he reminds himself to let her move at her own pace. She's perfectly right—neither of them are sure where this is going yet. Knowing what he knows now, he's not sure it can really go anywhere at all.

But he wants it to. God, he wants it.

~ ~ ~

The first thing Emma notices when Killian picks her up is the scruff on his face. The second thing is his clothes—he's left the white collar behind, unbuttoned the top few buttons of his black shirt, and pulled a v-neck sweater over it. It makes sense, when she thinks about it. A priest on a date probably draws a lot of stares. Toning down his clerical look will give them more privacy. But it still feels strange—the only other time she's seen him out of his clerical attire is when he's out running.

He takes her to a nice seafood place that she's noticed but never tried. They are seated at a dim, cozy booth, and Emma fights to quell the butterflies in her stomach. This is her first real date in longer than she cares to admit, and the fact that it's with someone who she knows for a fact cares about her almost makes it more nerve-wracking.

She tries to calm her nerves by keeping things light. "So, you're really going for it with this whole facial hair, thing, aren't you? What brought that on?"

Killian reaches up to rub the growing stubble on his face with a wry grin. "I don't know. A whim, really."

"It's a good look for you," she confesses, and his grin, grows even broader.

"Well, now that I know it has the Emma Swan stamp of approval, I'll have to keep it."

They ease into some light chatter about their mutual friends, and then Killian asks a few questions about her days in the bail bonds business. In the past they talked a little about her difficult childhood in the foster system, but this is the first time he's asked about the career she pursued for nearly six years.

As she tells about the tricks she learned, the skills she mastered, the mentors she trained with and some of her more memorable collars, his eyes light up with fascination.

He's quicker to joke and flirt tonight than he's ever been before, but underneath it all there seems to be a new tension. He's probably just as nervous about this date as she is, but he's usually so put-together and serene that it catches her off guard.

Truth be told, she likes it. She likes seeing the signs that Killian Jones is just another flawed human being, rather than the too-perfect-to-be-true priest that he sometimes comes across as.

Now this Killian—the man behind the priest's costume—the one who fidgets nervously when she brushes her fingers against his and who slurps his clam chowder too loudly and who cracks a few jokes so laden with innuendo that she hopes none of his parishioners are around to overhear—this is a man she could really fall for.

~ ~ ~

They talk long into the evening—long after the last traces of their food is gone. It's all coming so easily—the conversation flowing just as well as it ever did before Emma's kiss awakened Killian's sleeping memories. He's fascinated by her exploits tracking down criminals. From the sound of things, she'd have made a hell of a pirate. 

When he suggests that they move their conversation to a late-night coffeehouse, she agrees, and the walk out to his car gives him a moment to ponder the situation. 

He doesn't feel like two different people are struggling to dominate a single body—he's just a man with far too many memories. But none of them are standing in the way of his feelings for Emma. If anything, remembering how long he was alone—how long he ached for his lost love—makes Emma all the more precious.

When he holds the door of the coffeehouse open for her and she glances at him with a soft mysterious smile on her lips, he knows it wasn't an illusion—everything he feels, everything he's felt from the beginning, is as real as it gets.

At last, after days of struggling with that question, he knows.

All the more reason to be careful and patient. He can't frighten her away now. Not when he has so much to lose.

He sips his tea slowly while she drinks her ridiculously sweet looking mocha frappe and goes on at great length to justify her love for the movie "Legally Blonde," (something, he's given to understand, she's had to do several times in the past).

He shakes his head and grins. "You've convinced me, darling. I'll have to watch it next time I get a chance. Perhaps we could watch it together?" 

She laughs. He loves the sound of her laughter—he hasn't heard it nearly often enough.

"Okay. I'm pretty sure I saw the DVD in Mary Margaret's collection. We'll have to make a date of it." She holds his gaze, and his heart dances in his chest.

"That sounds to me like you're suggesting we go on a second date," he says, raising an eyebrow. He knows that the deeper they let this go, the harder it will be to refrain from telling her the truth. But perhaps she's close to breaking the curse. What the hell does it take to break this kind of curse, anyway?

She nods, still wearing a smile, but her eyes take on a more serious—almost challenging—aspect. "Yeah. I think I am."

"I confess I like the sound of that."

Her smile brightens for a just a moment, sending his heart leaping into his throat, before the intensity returns to her gaze. "If we're gonna do this, you need to know that Henry comes first for me. Whatever is best for him, that's what I do. That's my bottom line here."

A momentary recollection of Milah crying herself to sleep in his arms out of guilt for leaving Bae behind rises in his mind. In some ways she and Emma are alike, but in other ways vastly different. He thinks Emma might be stronger.

A pang of guilt over the disloyal thought causes him to drop his eyes. But the truth is the truth. He doesn't love Milah any less for it. Her circumstances were different.

But the steel and determination in Emma—that's something he'll always admire. Something he'll always respect.

He raises his eyes to her again. "I understand. I wouldn't have it any other way. Henry is your family. Family needs to come first."

She nods, her smile hopeful. "And I know both our schedules are pretty busy. There'll probably be weeks when all we see of each other is during our morning coffee break. I can't promise more than that."

Killian reaches out to take her hand, and she grips his back with an urgency that thrills him. "Emma—I have no expectations of you. I'm not going to rush this, or push you, or try to make this move faster than you want it to go. You're right—we _are_ both busy people. I don't expect that to change anytime soon. But don't worry. We can figure it out together, one day at a time. If… that's what you want?"

He holds his breath, and lets it out in a relieved puff when she answers.

"It is. I want to give this a try. Just… be patient with me. My relationship skills are a little rusty, and they weren't too great to begin with."

He squeezes her hand. "You and me both, love."

After a few giddy moments Emma takes a deep breath. "Well, it's a relief to get that off my chest."

"Nervous, were you?"

She rolls her eyes self-effacingly. "Maybe. Just a little."

He can't stop smiling. "Maybe I was, too. Just a little."

Emma shakes her head, grinning, and good God he wants to pull her into his arms and never let go. But now's not the time. Not yet. He needs to be patient.

"It's getting late," she says softly. "I should probably head home, now."

He reluctantly agrees, and he drives her back to her car in the sheriff's station parking lot.

* *

When they get to the station Killian steps out of his car to walk her to hers and she laughs at him. "I think I can manage." She should have expected this old-fashioned protective streak of his. It'll take a little getting used to.

"Oh, so I'm not allowed to be a gentleman, now?" he asks, drawing so close to her that she can feel his warmth in the air.

She raises an eyebrow at the way he's so ready to invade her space, and smiles. "Is that really what you're doing? Being gentlemanly?"

"Maybe," he says, leaning his face toward hers, his body language unmistakable.

"Maybe not," she whispers back and closes the distance between their lips.

Fire surges through her body as soon as their lips meet.

All evening she's been telling herself to take things slow. She doesn't have room in her life right now for a fast and furious relationship. Slow and steady. That's the way to go.

But when his lips move eagerly against hers and his hand cups the back of her head like she's a precious treasure, she has trouble remembering _slow and steady_. He _really_ doesn't kiss like a priest.

She clutches at his back and at his hair, sliding her hand up beneath his coat to rest against his strong back, pulling him closer. The way he sucks on her bottom lips makes her moan, and before she knows it she is pressed against her yellow bug and his thigh is sliding up against the sensitive zone between her legs, filling her with electric tension.

She grabs the lapels of his coat and pulls him even closer, hungrily opening her mouth, begging him for more with her touch.

It's been a long time since anyone has kissed her like this, and an even longer time since she planned on seeing the man in question the next day—and the day after that… and the day after that….

Exhilaration and nervous excitement fill her core, and she gasps for breath, ending the kiss but not letting go of his coat—not pulling away. She knows she needs to stop, but she doesn't want it to end.

Killian seems just as affected as she is. He rests his forehead against hers for just a moment and then plants a soft kiss on her cheek before whispering in her ear. "I don't want you to go home."

She closes her eyes and feels her heart race. God, she wants him. But this is exactly what they agreed not to do. They can't rush this. _She_ can't rush this.

It surprises her when he speaks again. "Which probably means that it's _really_ time for you to go home," he says, easing his body back from hers.

Wow. This isn't something that's ever happened to her before. Rejection she's used to, but _respect_ —that's something unexpected.

She swallows hard and nods, dropping her hands from his coat as he takes another step back.

"Yeah. Yeah." She says, nodding again. "Home. That sounds like the right idea."

He nods quietly, puffing his breath out with a dazed look on his face.

She knows the feeling.

They stand like that, frozen in mutual lust and longing, for a several moments before Emma laughs at herself. "I think this the part where we're supposed to get in our cars."

"Too true," he replies. "I'll just…" He steps back and moves around to the driver's door of his car, but keeps his eyes on her. 

She unlocks the door of the bug and smiles at him. If it's this hard for them to stop from jumping each other after the very first date, she's not so sure how well _slow and steady_ will work out. Maybe she should opt for _fast but careful_? Is that even a thing?

"Goodnight, Killian," she forces herself to say.

"Goodnight, Emma."

They both slide into their cars, and Emma pulls out of the parking lot ahead of him. She tries not to look back.

She almost can't believe she's actually doing this—she's actually taking this chance. And it feels good—it feels right. Maybe all of Henry's talk about believing really has some truth to it. Maybe it's time for her to believe that she can be happy again—to believe that she's truly found a home.

~ ~ ~ 

Killian leans back in the driver's seat of his car long after Emma's car disappears, breathing slowly, trying to get a grip on his emotions.

He can't go on like this for long. He loves her too much to keep lying to her. But if he tells the truth before she's ready, he'll end up in a psych ward—or in a jail cell, depending on Emma's mood.

What he really needs to do is to help her break this bloody curse. He needs to help her bring the truth to light for everyone. Only then will they have a chance. But how? He's no scholar of magic. He can't begin to imagine how to go about breaking a curse as profound as this one, and the only people who can help aren't likely to want to.

Regina—surely she knows the truth. He can't imagine that she'd include losing her own memories as part of a curse she cast herself. She'd never have been able to adopt a child from outside of town if she'd been affected. But the curse is her pet project—she'd never give him the key to breaking it. Not without duress—and that's a step he's not willing to take. He's forsaken that kind of life. He's on a different path.

Turning to Gold would be no better. Killian has no idea what stake Gold has in this curse, or whether or not he wants it broken. But he knows that if Gold were to discover proof that Killian's memories had returned, he'd be just as likely to kill him as to help him.

No. There's no help to be found. Killian will have to figure this one out on his own. Somehow.

He closes his eyes and whispers a prayer. "Help me, God. Help me find a way to bring Emma to the truth." God is a lover of truth, isn't he? The only thing Killian isn't certain of is whether God truly watches over a cursed place such as this one is, or if it's outside of His purview. 

With a sigh he opens his eyes just in time to see a familiar motorcycle passing by. August.

That's it. That's the answer he's been looking for. August knows something. Something he's been hiding. Time to find out what.

Just as Killian starts his engine, a car drives past with no headlights on, dangerous for this time of night.

Killian recognizes it instantly. Gold.

He knows in his gut there's only one reason Gold would be driving with no lights. To follow August.

Killian shifts his car to drive and, leaving his own lights off, joins the pursuit.

The drive is a little nerve-wracking as they leave the well-lit center of town and enter the dark woods on the edge of town. The only thing that keeps Killian from turning back is his knowledge of these back roads from his long runs while training for the annual 10k race (or, at least his implanted memories of training for the race). Nothing lies down this road but the turn-offs to three different vacation cabins.

If he remembers correctly, one of them belongs to Gold.

Though he is far enough behind Gold that he doesn't see him turn onto the short dirt road to his own cabin, Killian follows his instinct and heads in that direction. Just after turning onto the road he finds a place to pull his car off to the side, where it will be concealed by some trees and brush. He continues down the short road on foot, hoping his instincts won't lead him astray.

He smiles with grim satisfaction when he comes across Gold's car parked not far from the cabin. There are no lights on inside.

Keeping his body low and moving as quietly as he can, Killian approaches the cabin. He hears the faint sound of voices behind the cabin, and peers around the corner just in time to see Gold leading August deeper into the woods.

Are they working together, now? His heart races. He has to get close enough to hear what they're saying.

Killian works to stay far enough back that they won't overhear his movements, but close enough to keep glimpsing them through the trees. It isn't easy, but they never turn back to look at him.

After several minutes they stop in a small clearing near a stream, and Killian creeps slowly closer, taking cover every few steps. At last he draws close enough to make out their words.

"…I didn't want to take the chance of Regina finding it," says Gold, as August digs into the earth with a shovel. 

"Of course," replies August.

Gold points at the ground and crouches. "It should be right about here, son. Here, let me…"

Killian blinks in shock. Did he hear that right? Does Gold somehow believe that man is Baelfire? Never in a million years could that be true. Bae would rather die than come willingly in search of his father.

Gold pulls something from the loose earth, and after a moment, rises slowly, a long dagger in his hand.

Killian clenches the bark of the fallen tree he is hiding behind. It's the one. That very dagger Bae told him of so long ago. The only thing that can destroy Rumplestiltskin.

He almost cries out as Gold gently hands the blade over to August, telling his "son" to destroy it—that he doesn't need it anymore. What has August done to get inside Gold's head like this? Perhaps Gold isn't the real threat here, at all.

He watches, dreadfully unsurprised as August takes the blade, steps back, and points it at Gold. "By the power of the darkness, I command thee, Dark One."

Killian feels his face contorting in a snarl. What madness and ruin does August hope to bring on the town with the Dark One under his thumb? He never should have let that man anywhere near Henry.

It is with almost grim satisfaction that Killian watches Gold's face change, the realization of his mistake washing over him. And with equal satisfaction he watches Gold handily disarm August, reminding him that magic doesn't work in this realm, as his true son would well know.

But even as the men scuffle, Killian keeps his eyes fixed on the dagger. There may be no magic here _now_ , but Gold would never have feared it falling into Regina's hands unless he had an inkling of magic coming here at some future date—perhaps when the curse is broken?

Killian's fingers twitch at the thought. He needs to get that dagger. He can't leave it in Gold's hands once the curse is lifted.

For a moment Killian wonders if he should step in and save August from being filleted by Gold, but he holds back, listening as the scene plays out. He's unsurprised to learn that August is from the Enchanted Forest, though how he left it before the curse struck remains a mystery. It is August's confession of a deadly illness that leaves Killian frozen with shock, and then, immediately after, Gold surprises him again by suggesting that he wants August to help Emma break the curse.

Killian watches both Gold and August walk back toward the cabin, giving them a wide berth before quietly following.

This illuminates so much. 

Killian can read between the lines. Gold wants the curse broken as badly as he does, because he believes that Baelfire is out there, somewhere, and he wants to find him. He was ready to turn over his dagger and repent of his past wrongs, all for the chance at his son's forgiveness.

Could it be that his old enemy is just as ready to turn his back on his dark past as Killian is? He swallows hard and takes a deep breath. None of it changes what he did to Milah. He doesn't deserve a reunion with Bae. Killian may have given up on murdering the crocodile, but he sure as hell doesn't deserve a happy ending. Not after what he's done.

And August—August is nothing but weak and desperate. That's something Killian can understand. Perhaps it's something he can exploit.

He cuts through the woods to his car and waits there, watching both men drive away before following, once more leaving his lights off.

He tries to catch up to Gold, knowing that tonight might be his only chance to discover the new hiding place of the dagger.

He hangs back further from Gold's car as they pull into the lights of the town, and raises his eyebrows in surprise when he sees Gold turn into the sheriff's station parking lot. Killian pulls over and watches as Gold steps out of his car and crouches in the border garden along the front of the building for a few minutes before brushing his hand on his coat and stepping back into the his car.

Of course. Where better place to hide his dagger than right under the noses of his most powerful enemies, and his most powerful allies? No one would suspect it.

Killian forces himself to wait several minutes after Gold leaves, hoping his intuition is right. 

Sure enough, after poking around under the bushes he finds some freshly turned earth. Just a little digging reveals a canvas wrapped bundle. 

With shaking breath, Killian unwraps it. He holds the Dark One's dagger in his hand.

After all these centuries, it is finally his.

He closes his fingers around the handle, and all his memories of the Dark One's sneering face after he killed Milah fill his mind.

No. He shakes his head. Gold is on a path of repentance, now. He still deserves no happy ending, but Killian can't be the one to kill him. He's turned his back on that.

Besides, it will be all the sweeter to help Emma break the curse, and then look Gold in the eye, holding his dagger, and command him never to work magic again—and forbid him to ever see his son.

That will be a far truer vengeance than killing him ever would have been.

Killian can't stop the smile on his face as he climbs into his car and rests the dagger on the seat beside him. Now he just needs to find a hiding place where Gold will never think to look.

And tomorrow, he'll talk to August and see if together they might find a way to help Emma break the curse.

 

tbc


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a long chapter to make up for the long break between updates. Thanks so much for your support!

Killian wipes his hand on the grass to brush away the last bits of dirt while he crouches over Graham's grave. The pre-dawn light barely illuminates the headstone. He studies the simple inscription, _"Devoted public servant, loyal friend,"_ and shakes his head. 

"You deserved better, mate," he whispers. "I wish I'd gotten a chance to know who you truly were. Maybe someone can tell me, someday." He glances back toward the spot where he'd just finished burying Rumplestiltskin's dagger. "Watch over it for me. Keep it safe."

He rests his hand briefly on the ground just before the headstone and nods before standing and walking back to his car. He needs to get ready for his regular morning run—he can't do anything to change his routine, or Gold might notice and suspect. The man is already too close to the truth. Killian wants to keep the upper hand now that he's got it.

After his run he does his usual morning routine at the church and then picks up his usual coffee for two at Granny's. Ruby gives him a knowing smirk as she hands him the cups. "Say hi to Emma for me," she says.

Killian smiles right back. "I'll be happy to convey your greetings, lass."

It is only Ruby's wide startled eyes that clue him into the fact that he's falling back into speech patterns that belong to the pirate instead of the priest. He nods quickly and heads out the door. Keeping his secret under wraps is getting more complicated with every passing day. August had better have some idea how to break this bloody curse. Killian won't be able to keep up this act much longer.

Emma's grin when he arrives at her office sets his heart racing. At moments like this he can hardly believe that he spent centuries believing that revenge was his only reason to go on living. Every time he meets her eyes he sees his future stretched out before him—a happier future than he ever dared to hope.

A small part of him still fears that it's too good to be true. No matter what he's done as a priest to make amends for his dark past, it will never be enough to deserve the kind of happiness he now hopes for. But he pushes the fear aside. Perhaps God has recognized some lingering worthiness in his heart, and has blessed him with this second chance. 

Or maybe God has nothing to do with, and it's only a lucky stroke of fate.

Whatever the case, he knows that for the rest of his life not a day will go by when he won't want to be by Emma's side.

She complains to him about the inconclusive evidence in the Kathryn Nolan kidnapping. "There has to be a way to trace this back to Regina. Everything in my gut tells me it was her. But I feel like I'm running into a brick wall." She taps her coffee cup and shakes her head. "Maybe I need to look into Jefferson again. Or maybe just start from scratch." She takes a sip. "I didn't think this was what I was signing up for when I took the job."

"I'm glad you took it, in any case. This town needs you, Emma. You'll solve this puzzle in the end." She has no idea how much they need her, or how deep the puzzle runs, though she'll figure it out soon enough.

Emma's eyes narrow as she stares at him, but a slight smile bends at the corners of her mouth.

"What? What is it?" he says.

"I'm just trying to figure out when you became my biggest cheerleader. It used to be Henry, but you're definitely taking the lead, lately."

"What can I say? I'm a fan of your work, Swan. I can't help but sing your praises," he teases.

"You can sing them all you want once I've got Kathryn's kidnapper locked in that cell," she points at the holding cell on the other side of the station. "Until then, I have evidence to review."

"I'll leave you to it, then." 

Though he wishes they were at the stage of their relationship where he could drop a casual kiss on her lips every time they said goodbye, he knows they aren't there, yet, so he merely takes his leave and smiles back at her when she flutters her fingers in a quick wave.

He heads back to Granny's. He's put off his talk with August for long enough. 

Killian by-passes the diner, coming in the side entrance near the guest rooms, instead. He's already picked up August's room number from previous observations, and he knocks loudly on the door.

He hears stirring within, but it takes a moment before the door finally opens.

August looks at him with undisguised surprise. "Father Jones? What brings you here?"

Killian can't help but frown. He has no respect for this man's methods. Using Henry? Trying to pass himself off as Baelfire? Very bad form indeed. "It's time you and I have an honest conversation, mate."

"A conversation about what?" August's voice drips with suspicion.

"About how you, I, the Dark One and the Queen are the only ones around here who know what the hell is going on." Killian glares at August as his eyes go wide. "You're not the only one in this town with secrets," Killian says, pushing past August into his room.

August closes the door behind them and stares at him incredulously. "How long have you known?"

"Long enough to know you've been trying to con the Dark One—and that you failed quite miserably."

"You've been following me?" August steps toward him, anger flashing in his eyes.

Killian spreads his arms. "Guilty as charged. You didn't exactly make it difficult, what with the way you were trying to lead Gold around town by the nose for the past few days."

August clenches his jaw. "Fine. So you've found me out. What now? Gold already knows who I am—telling him won't get you anything. What is it you want from me?"

"That is the question, isn't it?" Killian nods slowly, eyeing August up and down. He seems to be favoring one leg—something to do with his illness, perhaps? "What I want, is to know how to break this bloody curse."

August shakes his head and laughs and sad, empty laugh. "I don't know."

Killian freezes. He hadn't expected this. "What do you mean, you don't know? I thought you were trying to break it."

"I am. But I can't. And neither can you." August shakes his head and sinks into his desk chair. "That's the hard part. The curse was built with only one loophole. Emma. Only she can break it—and before she can break it, she has to believe. I'm not having too much luck on that front."

Killian swallows hard and looks at his feet. Emma's about as ready to believe in Henry's fairytales as she is to eat a snake. "So—once she believes, that's it? The curse will simply lift?"

August shakes his head. "Belief is the key, but turning the key is going to take something more. That's the part I haven't figured out yet."

Killian sinks to the edge of the bed, feeling more flummoxed than he was before coming. Getting Emma to believe at all will be a hell of a task, and then they'll still have to solve the final piece of the puzzle. "You've had a while to think on it, any promising ideas?"

August shrugs. "She may have to go on some sort of quest—undertake an act of heroism. Or…" he pauses and meets Killian's eye with a provocative glare, "… one traditional way of breaking even the most enduring of curses is True Love's Kiss."

Killian's chest feels tight, and he looks away from August's gaze. If True Love's Kiss can break the curse, that means… No. He doesn't want to think about what it means. Besides, if August is right, she has to believe first. That must be it—it has to be.

August starts to chuckle, a low mocking laugh, and Killian lifts his head to glare at him.

August only shakes his head. "You've already tried it, haven't you? Sorry to break the bad news, but if you were her True Love, we wouldn't be having this conversation."

Killian frowns. He won't let August get inside his head like that. "And who the hell are you that I should take your word on the subject? Are you the bloody Wizard of Oz, or something? It would fit, after all, seeing how you're nothing but a farce."

"Who I am is my own business," says August. "I don't suppose you plan on telling me who you really are?"

"I've already told you. I'm Killian Jones. That's all you need to know." Killian's flipped through Henry's book. He knows he isn't in it.

"That's what I thought," replied August. He shakes his head. "Look—we're on the same side now, aren't we? We both want this curse to end."

"On that we can agree," Killian says, nodding.

"So let's talk about how we can work together to help Emma believe."

Killian rubs his ear while he thinks. "I already have her trust. I can take my time, become a more important part of her life, and then, eventually, I can break the truth to her. By then she'll be more ready to believe. I'm in no hurry," he lies. He knows he can't keep the truth from her for long, but he's curious to see just how desperate August is.

"We're all in a hurry," says August, a new fire shining in his eyes. "The closer Emma gets to Henry—the closer she comes to proving that Regina is responsible for framing Mary Margaret—the more frightened Regina will get. She's not going to let Emma win. She may not have magic here, but that won't stop her. You know what she's capable of."

"That I do." Killian nods slowly. August is pretty damn desperate from the sound of things, but he also makes a valid point.

August nods. "I called Emma to offer to install a lock that will be impervious to Regina's skeleton keys. I'm going by tomorrow morning to install it. I'll get her to spend the day with me. I think I have enough evidence to convince her of the truth, once and for all."

Tomorrow? Could it really be over so soon? Killian swallows. "Are you sure about that? Emma's a stubborn lass. Your proof might not be enough."

"I know." August stretches his bad leg, wincing. "Anything you can do to back me up would help. Do you have anything you can show her, or tell her, that might help? Anything at all?"

Killian thinks of the stash of old possessions he found aboard the Roger—the _Jewel of the Realm_ , rather. The diary and sketchbook might have some impact on her, but she could just as easily dismiss them as fabrications. No. He'd have to be more subtle than that. But how can he pull off subtlety with August rushing ahead full bore? "I'll think of something," he says. He has to. He needs to find a way to tell Emma the truth before the curse breaks. She needs to know that she can still trust him.

"See that you do," says August. "I don't think I can do this alone. She refuses to see what's right in front of her face. She trusts you—she's ready to believe you."

Killian hopes that's true, but deep down he's still not sure. Just because she's ready to take a chance on romance with her friend the priest doesn't mean she's ready to believe in fairytales. He swallows hard. Emma's been hurt so much already—he doesn't want to be the one to hurt her even more. "I'll figure it out," he says noncommittally.

August is unimpressed. After a moment's pause, he says, "I know where Henry's father is. I know how to contact him. I've been watching Emma a hell of a lot longer than you know."

Killian starts to his feet, anger building inside of him. "So you'll give him a call and he'll just come waltzing into to town to save us all with his magic kiss, will he? If it was that simple you'd have done it already." August can't have any idea how much that man hurt Emma, or he'd never be making such a threat.

August smirks and shrugs. "You never know. Anything is possible."

"Not that," Killian snaps. "Not with him. If you knew her at all you'd know I'm right."

August rest his hand on the desk and pushes up to his feet. "I'll do what I have to do. See that you do the same."

"Oh, I will mate. But not for you. For Emma." Killian storms out of the room, pulling the door shut with a loud bang behind him. He frowns the whole way to his car, fuming inside. This is all moving too fast for comfort, but he can't think of any way to slow it down or get it back under control. All he can do is try to stay on Emma's good side—try to prove himself worthy of her trust, no matter what happens.

He knows that he shouldn't let August's words about True Love's Kiss and Henry's father rankle him, but they do. He can't stop thinking about them.

He knows that Emma doesn't love him yet, but he's been hopeful that she'll get there in time. Is that how True Love works? Can it come slowly, instead of all at once? And would the power of such a kiss really only work if Emma already believed? Couldn't the power of her love be enough without the belief?

Damn it. There's not enough time. There's never enough time.

~ ~ ~

As soon as the officers in charge of the lockup at the courthouse come to collect Sidney and take him away, Emma locks the station and gets in her car. 

Regina has no idea what she's just gotten herself into. Emma can't remember the last time she's been this mad. She slams her hands against the steering wheel, crying out in frustration. This craziness has got to stop.

She starts her car and drives, heading to the one place where she knows she'll find a sympathetic ear: the Episcopal church.

Emma waves hello to the church administrator, Doris, and then heads into Killian's office, closing the door behind her.

He's on his feet immediately. "Emma, is something wrong?"

She shakes her head in frustration. "You have no idea. Regina just brought Sidney Glass by the station, and he confessed to kidnapping Kathryn Nolan."

She sees Killian's jaw tighten as he clenches his teeth. "There's no way that's true."

"I know!" she exclaims, finally letting all her anger fly. "He's so far gone in love with her that he let her manipulate him into taking the fall for her. And I had no choice but to arrest him for it, because all the pieces of the puzzle fit."

"Of course they fit—Regina made sure of that," says Killian, his voice almost as angry as hers.

"I'm not letting her get away with this," Emma says. "Not after what she tried to do to Mary Margaret. That bitch is a first class sociopath, and I can't let her keep winning like this." She takes a deep breath, and her anger chills like someone's thrown cold water over her. What if she let her anger get the best of her? "I did something that might be crazy. I don't know." She sinks to the couch against the wall of his office, and Killian sits down beside her.

"What is it, Swan?" he asks.

Emma pushes her hair back from her forehead, reviewing her rash declaration in her mind. She's not sorry she said what she did. She's not having second thoughts. But calling Regina out like that could lead to some serious consequences. "I told Regina exactly what I thought of her, and then I told her I was taking her court to get Henry."

Killian's cheeks puff as he lets out a slow breath. "That's a bold move."

"I know. I just—I can't leave Henry with her after all she's done, can I?" She meets Killian's eyes, hoping for reassurance.

"I wouldn't if I were you," he says with a soft intensity in his voice.

Her body relaxes immediately. So she isn't crazy. What she's doing is sane—it's a rational response to what she's been facing these past few months. She nods. 

"Emma—I know Regina can be a powerful foe. Know that no matter what she tries, I'll be here to help. Always. You know that, don't you?" His eyes sear into her heart, and she believes every word he says.

She licks her lips and nods again. "Thank you. It means a lot to me to have your support. This will be a hell of a lot easier with someone else on my team."

"I am," he says, taking her hand. "Every step of the way. You…" he hesitates a moment before finishing, "…you trust me, don't you?"

Emma squeezes his hand and shakes her head in confusion. "Of course I trust you." He's the first person in forever that she's trusted like this. How can he doubt it?

"Good," he says quietly before leaning in to kiss her.

Though the kiss wasn't expected, Emma leans into it. He makes her feel so good—and feeling good is exactly what she needs right now.

Killian pulls her closer, opening his mouth—he's eager and passionate and hungry in a way that sets her whole body on fire. She pulls right back, tugging at his hair, clinging to his neck, wrapping a leg over his lap.

She feels his hook sliding along her outer thigh, urging her ever closer as they kiss. She gasps for air against his mouth, but doesn't pull back. Something about his embrace feels urgent and desperate. No one has ever needed her like this before, and she doesn't want it to end.

He tilts his face, and she can hear him whisper her name against her lips, almost like a prayer, before he deepens the kiss again.

Green and purple lights flash before her eyes. She can hear the crash of ocean waves, and the clash of metal on metal.

Her heart pounds in her chest, and she struggles to catch her breath. She pulls back, gasping, and clings to his shoulders, her head spinning. She feels the sudden urge to go read Henry's book again, though she has no idea why.

"Emma? Emma?" Killian says softly—urgently.

She looks up to meet his gaze and blinks a few times to bring him into focus. As the dizziness clears she sucks in a few deep breaths.

What the hell just happened?

"Emma?" Killian asks again, gently tucking her hair behind her ear. "Are you…?"

His unfinished question hangs in the air, and though the rational side of her brain knows he probably means, "Are you okay?" the irrational side has a hunch that he wants to ask something else—though what, exactly, she doesn't dwell on long enough to guess.

She shakes her head and smiles. "I'm fine. Just… wow. It's, uh, been a long time since anyone's kissed me like that. I thought I was seeing stars for a minute there. You can take that as a compliment."

Killian smiles back and ducks his head bashfully, though for a moment Emma can swear he almost looks disappointed. But the moment passes and he chuckles. "Yes, I think I shall. I may have seen a few stars, myself."

As much as Emma's body still tingles from head to toe—as much as she wants to go back to doing exactly what they were doing—she knows this is moving too fast. She doesn't hold it against him; she's just as much to blame as he is. Apparently when two people have gone as long as they have between relationships, it's damn hard to tell their bodies to slow down, even when their minds know better. But with all that's going on, Emma knows she doesn't have the luxury of trying to navigate a torrid affair with a priest and fight for custody of her son at the same time. She knows just how easy it would be to lose herself in this relationship. But she can't. Not when Henry is the cost.

One has to take priority over the other, and she knows exactly which option she'll choose.

"Killian, we need to slow this down." She swallows and sucks a little on her bottom lip, knowing full well that this might hurt him, and she really doesn't want to hurt him. (She doesn't want to think about the fact that it might hurt _her_ too, because, God, it really does.)

His eyes drop and he nods. "I know. I don't know what's come over me since this started. I never meant for things to move this fast. I…" He raises his eyes again, and he really needs to stop looking at her like that or he's going to make this impossible. "I want to do this right, Emma. I care about you very much. I want to do this right." 

"I want to do this right, too," she says, struggling for the words to reassure him (and herself) that this can work out, somehow. "Just… right now… I… " She's about to tell him that they need to put the breaks on—push the pause button—or whatever other cliché she can think of. But the words won't come. Instead her throat tightens up, she feels an ache growing in her chest and she really just wants him to hold her.

 _Fuck_. She's already in so deep she's struggling to climb out.

He sits, waiting, not saying a word. Waiting for her to choose.

And suddenly she doesn't even _want_ to climb out because this is the first time in her life she's been with someone who lets _her_ choose—who lets _her_ make the calls, and, damn it, doesn't she deserve this? After all the crap she's had to push through her whole life, doesn't she deserve someone who puts _her_ first?

She nods with decision. "I need this to move at _my_ pace. If I want things to slow down, they need to slow down. If I'm ready to take a leap, I want you to jump with me. I just really need to be in control of _something_ in my life right now. Can this be it? Please?"

 _Please let him give the right answer_. She waits, holding her breath.

His eyes waver for a moment, but then he nods, a cheeky smile on his face. "As you wish, milady."

Emma smiles, and laughs. She can't help but laugh as his words conjure memories of that first evening they spent together watching _The Princess Bride_ , and it amazes her how far they've come since.

"I can't promise to be perfect at this. I'm just a man," he says with raw honesty. "But I will endeavor with everything I have in me to follow your lead. Always. I'm in this, Emma. I want this to work. If you need to be in control right now, then you are. It's yours. You take the lead. I'll follow."

Her breath shakes as she draws it in through her smile. A voice in the back of her head nags her that this is too good to be true, but she ignores it. She's tired of listening to her fear and paranoia. She wants to take charge of her own life—starting with this, and then with Henry. "Okay," she says. "Okay. So… if I’m the one in charge, I guess… I have to go now. I need to figure out my plans for this custody battle, and I can't have your face," she waves her hand in the air right in front of him, and he laughs, "distracting me."

He grins and nods. "I see your point. I am rather devilishly handsome, aren't I?"

Emma laughs again and swats him on the shoulder. "You could at least be humble about it!"

He shrugs. "What can I say, love? I know all those ladies in the congregation don't show up just for the sermons."

Emma rolls her eyes. He's in rare form, today. "Yeah, yeah. Well, your charms aren't keeping me here any longer, _Father_ Jones." 

She stands up and he smiles, looking a little abashed. It always amazing to her how quickly he can flip from the incorrigible flirt to the perfect sensitive gentleman in the blink of an eye.

He stands up and smoothes his shirt out. "If you need any help, give me a call. I've got some youth groups in less than an hour and the 12 step group is meeting later tonight, but I'll have my cell phone on me."

"I think I'll be okay," she says, "but thanks. I'll just… see you tomorrow."

"You can count on it."

Emma resists the temptation to kiss him again before turning to leave. If this control thing is going to work, she needs to start by controlling herself.

As she grabs the doorknob he says her name.

She turns back to see him looking at her earnestly. "What?"

He steps toward her. "I just… " His voice trails off and he holds her gaze, looking uncertain for a moment. Then, with a smile and a shake of his head he says, "Nothing. It's nothing. Never mind. I'll see you tomorrow."

"Yeah. Okay." She frowns a little, but lets it go. This thing is still so new—it'll take time for them to finish learning each other's language. 

She heads back to the station. Time to start compiling all the evidence against Regina that she can find. It'll do nothing but help her when it comes time to face her in court.

~ ~ ~

Killian sinks back onto his sofa and rests his head in his hand. He's a coward. A bloody coward.

He should have told her the truth. He should have told her everything. But he backed down at the last moment instead of facing it like a man.

The kiss thing had been a long shot. He knew that going in, but August and his taunts had gotten into his head. He'd felt like he had to try, just one more time. And for a moment there he'd thought it had worked. But then the moment passed.

He shakes his head. Maybe there is no such thing as True Love in this realm. Maybe he's expecting too much of her too soon. 

Or maybe, the voice in the back of Killian's head nags, he isn't her True Love at all, and he never will be.

Tomorrow August will have his chance. Until then, Killian has no choice but to sit back and wait.

~ ~ ~

The next morning Emma is still sifting through old complaints against Regina when Killian turns up with her coffee. She smiles—he always makes her smile.

She updates him on her progress and then fills him in on August's strange offer from earlier in the morning. "He said something about me needing to see _the big picture_." Emma shakes her head. "I don't know. I think August means well, but some of his eccentricities are really starting to get on my nerves. How is riding off on his motorcycle for a day supposed to help me beat Regina? It's not like August knows anything about her—he's been here for even less time than I have."

Killian nods, tapping the corner of her desk with his finger. "You know I wasn't thrilled with August when he first came to town, but he's grown on me. He did help you with the Kathryn Nolan investigation. Perhaps he can help you again?" He raises an eyebrow, holding her gaze.

Emma laughs. "Seriously? You're suddenly taking August's side? What brought this on?"

Killian shrugs. "I've had a few conversations with the man. He's not so bad."

Killian never fails to surprise her. She shakes her head. "You know, I half think he's doing this to try to hook up with me. He doesn't know about us, yet."

"Yes he does," replies Killian, without batting an eye.

This one really surprises her. "What?"

"He does. Ruby does. Gold does. Doris does. Probably half the town does, by now." He raises his hands at his sides in a gesture of defeat. "It's a small town, darling. People see things, and then they gossip. It's how the community works."

Emma rolls her eyes. He's right. Ruby's teased her a few times already, and it would be a miracle if Doris hadn't figured out by now. "I guess that means it's time for me to break the news to Henry and Mary Margaret. If they haven't figured it out already, too."

Killian only smiles and shrugs again.

She sighs. "Okay. So August's not hitting on me. Got it. Who knows, maybe he does know something that can help? I'm still talking to Gold first."

"You can't trust Gold," says Killian.

"What, so now you suddenly trust August but not Gold?"

He shakes his head. "I didn't say don't hire Gold—there aren't many lawyers in town and none of them are as ruthless as him. But don't ever trust him."

She rolls her eyes again. Killian is really in a mood this morning. "Fine. I'll be careful."

"Good." He shifts in his chair and pulls something out of his jacket pocket. "I brought something for you. A good luck charm, of sorts. To help with the custody fight."

He stretches out his hand. He's holding some kind of leather square with a strap on it, like a large, battered luggage tag.

Curious, Emma takes it. One side bears a golden medallion with some sort of crown insignia on it, the other side is embossed with the name "Jones." The leather feels old and stiff, and the bottom edge is ragged, like it was cut from something larger. There's something about the way it feels under her fingertips—about the way it smells (like salt and old wood)—about the way the sunlight glints off of the gold—that makes her feel like she's holding a memory. "What is it?"

"It belonged to my brother," says Killian softly. "It's the only thing of his that I have left."

His eyes shine with emotion and Emma's breath catches in her throat at the sight. "I can't take this. It's too important to you." 

She tries to hand it back to him, but he clasps his hand over hers and shakes his head. "Keep it. Consider it a loan, if you like. It's brought me luck for many years. It might do the same for you, as you fight to get Henry." He pauses, looking down at their joined hands for a moment, before looking up at her eyes. "Let it serve as a reminder that no matter what happens, I'm on your team, Emma. You never have to be alone in this."

There's something in his tone that shakes her. When he looks at her like this—when he talks to her this way—she feels… _loved_.

Her heart races a little and she drops her gaze. "Thank you."

He nods and pulls his hand away. She rubs her fingers over the medallion one more time and then slips the leather tag into her coat pocket. "I could always use a little more luck," she says lightly, trying to ease the tension in the room. 

He leaves a few minutes later, but for the rest of the morning, as she organizes her evidence against Regina, she keeps dipping her hand into her pocket and running her fingers over the old leather and the smooth medallion.

When she takes a break for lunch she goes for a walk and ends up on the shore near the docks. She looks out over the water and plays with the tag in her pocket again. 

When she was seventeen she fell in love in less than a month, and the lingering pain of that relationship has haunted her ever since—as did the trauma of giving up the child that came of it. But now Henry is back in her life. She's come a full circle. Might it finally be time to open herself up to love, again? Is that what this is?

She knows that when she's with Killian she feels stronger and better than she does when they're apart. She knows he supports her one hundred percent, and she knows he cares about Henry, too. Around him she feels like she doesn't have to hide. She can show him her full self without fear of being judged. He's the best friend she's ever had.

She pulls the tag out of her pocket to stare at the medallion gleaming in the sunlight. 

She knew what love felt like as a desperate kid, and it was nothing like _this_. Maybe that's because this is what it feels like to feel love as a grown woman—a woman who knows herself, and is ready to make her own choices.

A part of her still can't help but worry that it's all too good to be true, but as she stares out over the ocean and feels the leather and metal between her fingers, she lets herself believe that it just might be real.

An hour later, after visiting Gold, Emma sits in her bug, holding the tag again. His words ring in her ears: _"The only certainty is, Henry would suffer."_

She wants to scream with frustration. Gold can't be right. Yes, the fight will be long and hard, but in the end Henry will be better off, won't he?

She squeezes Killian's insignia. Maybe he was right—maybe August knows something that'll help her, after all. She turns on the car and heads for Granny's.

August is more than happy to pick up on the little adventure he proposed this morning, so, reluctantly, Emma hops on his bike and lets him drive her out of town.

She doesn't realize what a mistake she's made until he pulls up at the restaurant where she was found as a baby and starts spouting his bullshit story of magic trees and fairytales.

Emma wants to cry. How can three people in the same small town be suffering from this same delusion, and they all insist that she's the key to solving everyone's problems? It's too much—and the fact that Henry has anything in common with people like August and Jefferson makes it hurt all the more.

A tiny voice at the back of her head nags that this is more than just coincidence. That it defies the laws of probability. That maybe, just maybe, she should _listen_.

And when, in a last desperate ploy, August pulls up his pant leg to show her _something_ , for just an instant she can almost swear that his leg is made of polished wood. She blinks her eyes and shakes her head and just as she expected, his leg is just a leg.

"You saw it, didn't you?" he says, a desperate hope flashing in his eyes.

No. Emma can't be a part of this insanity. It has to stop. "I didn't see _anything_."

"I've told enough lies in my lifetime to know one when I hear one," he says. "Stop fighting so hard when the truth is right in front of you."

"The only truth is that one of us is losing it, and it's not me."

He won't stop insisting that she's in denial. That everyone in town needs her—that their happiness is dependent on her. That they need her to fight for them. 

Tears well in her eyes and she wants to do nothing more than run away. She didn't sign up for this. Not for any of it. She doesn't want it. It can't be true. She can't let it be true.

"You're our only hope," he insists.

"Then you're all screwed," she replies, blinking back her tears. She needs to get the hell out of this place. She needs to get away before this insanity gets any more contagious. "Take me home. Now. Or I'll call a cab and find my own way home."

Thankfully, August holds his tongue as they walk back to his bike. She clings to him as they ride back to Storybrooke, enjoying the bracing cold of the air rushing past. She wants it to blow away all her troubles and doubts. When she gets home she needs to see Killian. He's the only person who makes sense right now. He's the only one who can help her deal with all this crap. He'll help her find a new lawyer. He'll reassure her that there's no such thing as magic. That she can just be a mom, and that's enough.

When August drops her off at her car she hurries away from him, eager to never see him again, but he calls after her.

"If you won't believe me, go talk to Killian."

She freezes in her tracks, her heart skipping a beat. No. She won't let him mess with her head like this. She spins on her heels. "Bullshit. I'm done with you August. Leave me alone."

He shakes his head and steps closer. "Ask Killian who he really is. Ask him if I've told you the truth. He knows, Emma. He and I met just yesterday to talk about how we could get you to believe."

She can feel her whole world crumbling around her, and she almost stumbles in the face of his words. "No. You're lying."

"You know I'm not," August says softly. And he's right. Everything he's said—everything he's said all damn night—rings true. But it can't be. It _can't_.

"Go ask him," August says one more time, and then turns, pulling on his helmet, and gets back on his bike.

Emma spins and fumbles to her car. It's all just bullshit. She shouldn't listen to him. Her emotions are too high—they're throwing off her lie-detector. That's it. That's all that's happening.

She tries to reassure herself all the way to Killian's place, but her heart is in her throat and tears still prick at the corners of her eyes when she walks to his door and pounds on it until she hears him coming.

His eyes are wide with shock, and she's caught him so off guard that he's wearing nothing but a tee shirt and pajama pants. He's not even wearing his hook. "Emma? What's wrong? Are you hurt?"

The tears spill out onto her cheeks at that question. _Yes_. Yes she's hurt. Yes she's falling to pieces. All she wants is for him to make it better, but she's terrified he's only going to make it worse. She can't beat around the bush. She needs answers. Now. 

"Did you talk to August about me yesterday?" she demands, her voice already hoarse with emotion.

Killian's shoulders sag and he blinks a few times. "Emma…"

"Just answer the question. Did you go talk to August about me yesterday?"

He holds her gaze for a moment, and then gives a short nod. "Yes. I did."

Emma feels dizzy. She stumbles back a few steps, and Killian follows her out onto his front stoop.

"Emma," he says, his voice harsh and demanding, "did he convince you? Do you believe?"

The last shreds of her hope are ripped to pieces by his words. A sob escapes her lips before she finds the voice to yell at him. "Is this some kind of sick game? Did you know each other before he came to town? Are you in it together, planning how to ruin my life for your own amusement? Is Jefferson a part of it?"

"No! Emma. No. You have to listen to me." Killian steps closer and she continues to back away.

"I don't have to do anything for you," she spits out.

"Yes, you do." He darts forward and grabs her wrist. "Emma—you have to believe. Everything in Henry's book—everything August told you—it's all true. This is not a game. This is the truth."

All her senses tell her that he believes every word he's saying, and that terrifies her all the more. What the hell is going on in this town? It's not safe. 

"It can't be true, Killian. Just listen to yourself. It's ridiculous."

"Aye," he nods, his eyes dark. "It is ridiculous. But that doesn't make it a lie."

She tugs her arm, and he lets her go, but continues to hold her gaze. "August thinks he's Pinocchio," she said. "Jefferson thinks he's the Mad Hatter, and Regina's supposed to be the Evil Queen, and Mary Margaret is supposed to be Snow White." She can hear the pitch of her voice rising with each name. "So who the hell are you supposed to be?"

"No one of consequence," he says softly. "Most of us here were no one of consequence." She sees his Adam's apple bob as he swallows. "I am Killian Jones. But over there, I was a naval officer in one of the royal fleets, just like my brother before me."

His affinity for sailing ships—his love of the _Jewel of the Realm_ —his stories about following his brother into the military. It all fits. It all fucking fits. 

For a brief, dizzying moment she wants to believe. She wants to believe with her whole heart. 

But she can't.

She's no princess. There's no curse. They don't all _depend on her_. 

No matter how much she wants to believe in Killian, that would mean believing in all the rest of it. And she can't.

She shakes her head and backs away from him again. "I can't do this. It's too much. We're through. Stay away from me, and stay away from Henry. Next time you come near me, I'm arresting you. Got it?"

The pain on his face cuts like a knife. "Everything between us is real, Emma. Everything I feel for you. I haven't lied to you about that. It's all true. You have to know that."

She shakes her head. "I can't. I just can't." With tears still rolling down her cheeks and her heart feeling like a withered flower in her chest she slips into her car and drives away.

tbc


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for the ongoing support! I'm going to try to update at least once a week until the whole thing is done, fingers crossed. And disclaimer: I borrowed a few lines of dialog from the show for this chapter. They don't belong to me, etc and so forth.

Killian wants a drink of rum. Badly.

He circles his house aimlessly, walking from room to room, unable to settle down, tugging at his hair and pulling at his ear. He needs to move—he needs to act—because if he sits still with his thoughts he knows he'll start drowning in them and never be able to pull himself back out.

Father Jones may be a man of God, but Captain Hook is a sinner through and through, and Killian made the mistake of letting Hook call the shots. He should have told Emma the truth right from the start and faced up to the consequences. Instead he's lied to her—used her—tried to win her heart under false pretenses.

He deserves her rejection. He earned it. He dishonored himself, and dishonored her.

His heart throbs with self-inflicted pain. He thought he was trying to leave his dark past behind. He thought he was trying to be a better man. But he's failed. Again. And now he might lose her forever.

He wants nothing more than a tall bottle of rum—enough to drink himself into insensibility. But it's after midnight and the only liquor store in town is long since closed.

There are still the bars…

He stops his circuit of the house to ponder the possibility. Maybe if he wore a hoodie and his false hand instead of the hook, no one would recognize him.

He's about to head for the coat closet to grab a hoodie when his better judgment kicks back in. He shakes his head in frustration, and kicks a nearby armchair with enough force to scoot it half a foot forward. 

No. He can't go from reprimanding himself for lying and then turn right around to give into more dark impulses. If he truly wants to be a better man—the kind of man that Emma can really and completely trust—then he needs to face his demons and find a way to overcome them. He needs to reconcile the pirate and the priest once and for all and find a way to be a whole being again.

He can't do anything to regain Emma's trust tonight. He needs to give her a day or two to cool off. In the meantime, he knows he'll never be able to sleep unless he wears himself out to the point of exhaustion.

He quickly changes into sweats and sneakers and heads out for a long run. The cold night air and the physical exertion will give him the clarity he needs to get through the next few days.

~ ~ ~ 

Emma doesn't even try to stop the tears from rolling down her cheeks as she grabs her clothes from her drawers and closet and stuffs them into her battered duffle bag. There's no point in stopping them now, because they'll only come back later.

She hopes that if she cries herself dry before leaving, maybe that'll be the end of it. Maybe that'll get it out of her system (though, from hard experience, she knows it probably won't).

Right now only one thing is real. Only one thing is true: she needs to get her son the hell out of Storybrooke.

Something is very, very wrong in this place. She's seen the signs from the very start, but she ignored them because she wanted so much to be in Henry's life. But she can't ignore it anymore. This entire town is full to the brim with insanity, and the sooner she gets Henry out of here, the better.

She carries her bag down the stairs and drops it long enough to wipe the mascara runs from her cheeks and get a long drink of water. But before she picks it up again Mary Margaret steps into the kitchen, looking dazed.

"Emma? What…?" He eyes drift to the duffle on the floor, and then back up to Emma's face, no doubt swollen and red from crying. "Are you leaving?" she asks in an angry whisper.

Emma opens her mouth, struggling to find the words to explain just how screwed up her whole life is right now. "I have to," she finally says.

"Why?" Mary Margaret's face scrunches up with emotion. "I thought you were making a home here. I thought you were ready to be Henry's mom."

"I was going to take him with me," Emma confesses, just about a whisper.

Mary Margaret's jaw drops and the words hang in the air between them. "Emma, you can't!"

Emma can see in her friend's eyes just how utterly fucked up she is right now, and the tears she thought she'd cried dry come back with a vengeance. She stumbles to the couch and sinks down into the cushions, wiping her eyes with shaking hands. "I don't—know—what else to do," she stammers out between sobs.

And then Mary Margaret is beside her, wrapping her arms around her, pulling her into a warm embrace. Emma clings her friend and sobs until her shoulders finally stop shaking and she can catch her breath again. Mary Margaret doesn't say a thing. She just holds her, stroking her hair, until Emma is calm enough to look her in the eye.

"What happened?" Mary Margaret asks. "Did Regina do something?"

Emma shakes her head. "Nothing that you don't already know about. But—" Where does she even start to explain the insanity of the past day? She swallows hard. "Gold won't take the case."

Mary Margaret frowns and clenches her jaw a little before answering. "There are at least four other private practice lawyers in town. I'll help you make a list, and tomorrow, we'll start calling them."

Emma sucks in a deep breath. "But what if none of them have the guts to take on Regina?"

"Then you can find a lawyer in Portland, or Augusta. You have options, Emma. You're not trapped."

It all sounds so sensible. So practical. If it was just Regina, Emma would agree. But it's so much more.

Mary Margaret's eyes narrow, and Emma can tell she sees something in her face, because she says, "What else is going on here? What aren't you telling me?"

Killian's name is on the tip of her tongue, but she doesn't know if she can say it without crying again. "August. I, uh… He…"

Mary Margaret grips Emma's arm. "Did he hurt you? Did he try to—to—"

"No, nothing like that." Emma shakes her head. "But he's not the nice guy he pretends to be. He's messed up in the head, and he scared me. You need to stay away from him, okay?"

Mary Margaret nods, looking slightly relieved. "Okay. I believe you. Is that really what set you off? Emma—you can tell me."

Emma takes a few deep breaths. The weight of this is crushing her. Maybe it really will help to talk about it. "It's… Killian." Her voice shakes, but she manages to hold back the tears. "He… I… we got in a fight."

"Emma," Mary Margaret laces her fingers between Emma's and meets her eyes with a determined stare, "I haven't asked, because I didn't want to pry, but are you and Killian… _involved_?" Her voice drops on the last word with such melodrama that Emma lets out a soft, desperate laugh.

She nods. "Yeah. We are. Were. Definitely were."

"So the fight was that bad?"

Emma nods. "It was. It really was. It's over. There's no going back after this."

Mary Margaret frowns. "Do you want to talk about it?"

"No." Emma shakes her head vehemently. "I just want to put it behind me."

Mary Margaret takes another deep breath. "You can't just run away from your problems. You have to face them. You're the one who taught me that." She looks pointedly at the duffle bag. "And taking Henry? Emma—you'd end up in jail."

The tears start to well again and Emma nods. "I know. It's crazy. I just—I had this feeling that if I could only get him out of Storybrooke, somehow we'd be safe." She shakes her head, not wanting to analyze that feeling any deeper.

"Emma—you need to unpack your bag and get some sleep. The only way to solve this is by getting a lawyer, and facing it down headfirst. I'm on your team. You don't have to do this alone."

Her words are so similar to the ones Killian spoke less than a day earlier that it makes the ache in Emma's chest swell all the harder. Mary Margaret is right. Kidnapping Henry won't solve any of her problems.

But a new lawyer and a few restraining orders might.

"Okay," she whispers.

Mary Margaret makes her a cup of chamomile tea and helps her back up the stairs to her bed, tucking her in like she's a kid. It feels good. Natural.

Emma smiles up at her. "I'm glad all my emotional stomping around woke you up. I'm glad you stopped me."

"I'm glad I stopped you, too," replies Mary Margaret. "But you didn't wake me up. I had a bad dream."

Emma raises her eyebrows. "About what?"

"Nothing."

"Come on, tell me. It'll distract me from my own mountain of crap."

Mary Margaret sighs. "I dreamed that I was in labor—having a baby. It was David's, and he was there, helping me, but something bad was coming. Some sort of danger. And as soon as our little girl was born, he had to take her away, to protect her. He left with our baby girl, and I was all alone." She shakes her head. "I know it was just a dream, but it felt so real. Almost like a memory."

Emma grips her covers, her knuckles white, her heart frozen in her chest. 

Mary Margaret never saw those pages from Henry's book. They ripped them out and burned them. Emma was the only one he showed them to. How could Mary Margaret be dreaming that story, unless…?

Mary Margaret rolled her eyes. "Sorry. That was a big downer. I shouldn't have said anything."

"It's okay," whispers Emma, her mind spinning.

Mary Margaret says goodnight and heads back downstairs.

Emma stares at her ceiling. What if Killian was telling the truth? What if August was right?

What if Henry can't let go of the delusions because they aren't delusions at all?

She can't believe this. There's no such thing as magic. It can't be real. But she lies awake most of the night wondering if it might be.

~ ~ ~ 

In spite of his exertions Killian doesn't sleep well, and wakes just after dawn. He doesn't have the energy for another run, so he heads to the church early to get a jump on his work. Though it's only seven twenty in the morning, he finds Doris already at work. The middle-aged woman wears her auburn hair in a short ponytail. She looks a little more haggard than usual.

"What brings you here so early?" he asks.

She shakes her head. "It was a strange night. I had the worst dreams. Couldn't sleep after they woke me up. So I figured I'd get an early start and then leave early to catch a matinee show at the movie theater."

"Hum. I didn't know you were prone to nightmares."

"I'm not." She shakes her head. "I almost never remember my dreams. But last night they were the worst. And they felt so real, too—almost like an old memory. But it couldn't have been a memory—goodness, the things in that dream." She shakes her head again.

"I'm sorry to hear it. I hope it won't become a regular occurrence."

"Me too."

Killian heads to his office, but her words trouble him. _"…almost like an old memory."_ It seems too much to hope that maybe he and August made a deeper impact on Emma than she was willing to admit, but what if they did? What if the curse is starting to crumble?

And when it does, what will Emma think of the man who tried to lie his way into her heart?

He has trouble concentrating on his work, and a bit after eight when his stomach starts to grumble he realizes he's skipped breakfast. He decides to head to Granny's for something to eat and a coffee to help get him through the day.

Many of the faces there look bleary-eyed and cranky, including Ruby as she pours his coffee and takes his order. "Are you all right today?" he asks, his suspicions growing.

Ruby shrugs. "Just had some bad dreams. I think it's catching. A bunch of people were complaining about bad dreams today."

Killian represses the urge to jump up in excitement. "What were your dreams about?" 

"I don't want to talk about it," she says sharply, a look of horror in her eyes.

"Sorry. Not my place to ask. I apologize."

"It's okay, Father. Your breakfast will be ready in a few minutes." She heads back to the counter.

Killian is eating his eggs and toast when August suddenly slides onto the chair across from him. He leans forward, talking in a low, excited voice. "We did it! We got through to her!"

Killian grimaces, all the pain of last night welling in his chest. "All you did was convince her that we were playing games with her mind. She told me she never wants to see me again."

"Did you tell her who you really are?" August asks, ignoring Killian's frustration.

"I tried. She wasn't interested in listening."

August shakes his head. "It doesn't matter if she was upset. Something we did still got through to her. She's starting to believe. You have to have noticed it—people all over town are complaining about vivid dreams—dreams that feel like memories."

Killian nods, nervously tapping his hook against the tabletop. "Do you really think the curse is losing its hold on us?"

"It has to be. It's the only explanation. You need to talk to Emma again—give her the final push into belief."

"No." Killian clenches his fingers around his coffee cup. "I already told you—she never wants to see me again."

"It doesn't matter." August rests a gloved hand on the table and holds Killian's gaze. "We're so close. You have to try again."

"Why not you?" Killian still wants to wait a few days—wants to give her some space to cool down.

"I can't," August says in a strangled voice. "I—my condition is taking a turn for the work. My… my father is here. He doesn't remember me, yet. But I need to spend time with him while I can still get around. I don't know if breaking the curse will reverse my condition or not. I need to do this before it's too late. You understand, don't you?"

Killian clenches his teeth. August knows a thing or two about manipulation. He knows a priest can't say no to a man on a quest for familial reconciliation. And he's right. "Very well. I'll find a chance to speak to her again before the day is out."

August leans forward, his eyes full of emotion. "Thank you, Killian. I know you can do this."

Killian doesn't share his confidence, but he makes no objection.

When he finishes his breakfast he's uncertain of where to go, next. He doesn't want to go back to the church, but he's not ready to face Emma again, yet, either. Instead he chooses to go visit an old friend.

The cemetery is deserted on this quiet late-winter morning, and there's no one around when he crouches by Graham's grave again.

"It's been a hell of a week, mate," he says. "I've mucked things up. And somehow I've got to salvage them, but I don't know if I can. Even if I can help her break the curse, I'm not sure if she'll ever forgive me." He rests his fingers on the cold ground. "I wish you were here to help me—even if it meant she'd chosen you instead. I still miss you. We all do."

He glances up at the sound of footsteps and then quickly ducks behind the nearest monument tall enough to conceal him. The dark-haired woman he'd caught a glimpse of has to be Regina. But who is with her?

Slowly he peeks around the edge of the monument. Yes—that's Regina, headed for the Mills family crypt. And behind her walks a tall man with a puffy mop of brown hair and a scarf around his neck above his dark coat. What are they up to?

If Regina has seen the signs of the curse beginning to collapse, it can't be anything good.

Killian sneaks back to his car and pulls out of the parking lot. He waits just down the street from the parking entrance, and watches. Just over half an hour later Regina's car pulls out and she drives past him. In his rearview mirror he can see another car pulling out, but this one turns away from him.

On a hunch, Killian turns on his car and quickly does a u-turn to follow the strange car. It winds and twists through several back roads before coming to an isolated cabin. Killian parks a distance away and watches the tall man get out of the car and head into the cabin.

Whoever he is, he's likely to be easier to get information from than Regina. Killian decides to take his chances. He pulls back onto the road and drives up to the cabin. He knocks at the door several times before he gets an answer. The tall man glares at him. "What do you want?"

Killian grins. "And hello to you, too. I'm afraid I'm a bit lost. Could you direct me back to the main road, by chance?"

With a sullen face the man mumbles a few hurried directions and moves to step inside.

"Thank you, sir. I don't think I caught your name?" says Killian.

"That's because I didn't give it," he says, pushing the door closed.

Killian sticks his foot in the way just in time to stop it from shutting and says, "Then perhaps Regina will let me know who you are. But I think I have a guess."

The man's eyes seem to be fluctuating between fear and anger, and, if Regina is getting as desperate as Killian thinks she might be, he can only imagine that she'll be searching for any ally she can find, right now. Even one crazy enough to kidnap the savior. "I'll say you're the bloke they call Jefferson."

The man's face darkens, and Killian is pretty certain he's hit the nail on the head.

"Who are you? What do you want?" Jefferson says, still holding the door half-closed.

"I want to know exactly what scheme Regina is concocting with you."

"Why should I tell you?" Jefferson pushes harder on the door, and Killian pushes right back.

"Because if you don't, if going to beat the shit out of you."

Jefferson raises an eyebrow.

"I wasn't always a priest, friend." With a swift kick Killian knocks Jefferson backward and flings the door wide. He storms in and grabs Jefferson's scarf with his hook, twisting and spinning to get behind the taller man, and then kicking the back of his knees to knock him to the floor. Killian pulls back on the scarf, choking Jefferson.

"When I let go of this scarf, you're going to start talking. Tell me everything you and Regina are up to. Now."

~ ~ ~

Emma fidgets in her seat at Granny's as she waits for Dr. Hopper. This meeting is the beginning of what will no doubt be a months' long custody battle, and she can feel the weight of that burden on her shoulders already. She drains her coffee cup quickly, and Ruby comes to refill it.

On impulse Emma asks, "Has Killian been by today?"

Ruby nods. "He was here about an hour ago for breakfast. Why? Where you supposed to meet him?"

"No. No reason." Except that he's the only one who might be able to answer the questions that kept her up most of the night. The broken look on his face still haunts her every time she closes her eyes. Maybe she should have listened…

She looks up at Ruby. "Hey—did you have bad dreams last night?"

Ruby's eyes go wide. "Yeah. How'd you know?"

"I just—I—" She hesitates before finishing, "there's just a lot of that going around today. Must be something in the air."

"Yeah. It's so weird. Half the customers today have been talking about bad dreams. What is up with that?"

Emma shrugs and shakes her head and Ruby heads off to refill more cups. Her gut is telling her exactly what's causing the dreams, but her head still refuses to accept it. It has to be a coincidence. Nothing more.

When Dr. Hopper arrives she runs through her plans with him and asks for his frank opinion.

He shakes his head. "This won't be an easy fight. Logic tells me that this battle between you and Regina has done Henry more harm than good, that Henry's been acting out and skipping school more than ever since you arrived, and that the law is on Regina's side."

Emma's heart falls. She's suspected this all along, but to hear it from someone she trusts makes it all the more overwhelming. Before she can respond, Dr. Hopper speaks again.

"However, I have the strangest feeling in my gut. I just _know_ that you'll be better for Henry than Regina will be." He shakes his head. "Everything in my professional training tells me that I need to council you to step back and let Regina be his mother, but I feel like there's something inside of me compelling me to tell you to do the opposite."

Emma's breath catches in her throat. So the "conscience" of the town is telling her to fight the "Evil Queen"? This can't be happening. Why the hell does Henry's book suddenly seem to make sense? She doesn't want this. This isn't what she signed up for. "So—so you'll help me?" she asks softly, struggling to meet his gaze as all her thoughts swirl in her head. Is this some sort of contagious insanity, or are there toxic chemicals in the air that make them all nuts? For some reason those explanations seem comforting when held up against the alternative.

"Absolutely," says Dr. Hopper. "I'm on your side for this fight, Emma. Whenever you need me, don't hesitate to call."

"Okay. Okay." She smiles and nods, gathering up the papers she brought. "Thank you. So much." She stands to go. She needs to get some air. She needs to clear her thoughts and figure out what to do next. (She needs to resist the urge to call Killian and ask him to tell her more—but she's not even acknowledging that thought has crossed her mind.)

"It's my pleasure, Emma," he says.

She leaves as quickly as she can without being rude.

This is all too much.

She's not caught in the middle of a town full of story book characters. This can't be real.

She heads home. She needs some peace and quiet to help clear her head.

Only a few minutes after she gets home, there is a knock on her door. Emma frowns. It had better not be August or Killian coming to reinforce her growing delusions. She needs to _clear_ her head—not fill it with more nonsense.

She gasps in surprise when she opens the door to find Regina standing there, a plastic food container in her hands.

"What are you doing here?" Emma asks. After everything Regina's done, she has no reason to trust the woman. All her senses are screaming at her to close the door on her.

"I'm here to make peace, Miss Swan," says Regina. "Please." Her voice softens. "Can I come in?"

Emma's whole body is tense, but she nods. "Fine. Come in."

Regina steps in and strides toward the kitchen. Emma closes the door behind her and folds her arms across her chest, taking a wide stance and staring down Regina. She feels her body ramping up for a fight.

Regina turns to face her. "We can't keep up this conflict. It's not healthy for Henry, and it's not healthy for the town. I know that now that you're in his life he won't let go easily. I understand that. I still don't like it, but I understand." She takes a deep breath. "I'm willing to grant you visitation rights. Legally, and officially."

Emma frowns. There has to be a catch. With Regina, there's always a catch. "What kinds of rights?"

Regina steps toward her. "I want to meet with a court-appointed mediator to work out the exact details, but I'm thinking something along the lines of one evening a week and one weekend a month."

Emma lifts her chin to look down on Regina. It can't be this easy. No way would Regina let it be this easy—would she? _Or am I just thinking of the Evil Queen, now?_ "That might not be enough for Henry."

"It's not exactly his choice, is it?" The usual hard edge resurfaces in Regina's voice.

"No," Emma concedes, nodding. "It's not."

"So, do you agree to meet with the mediator and work this out like civilized adults, or are we going to keep fighting like a pair of adolescent chimpanzees?" Regina glares at her.

This is the answer Emma's been waiting for. She feels the weight lifting off her shoulders already. The whole story book thing was just a reaction to stress. She'd let it get to her. None of it is real. _This_ —this is real. Emma nods. "Okay. I'll do it. We can meet with the mediator."

Regina's smile is surprisingly warm. "I was hoping you'd say that. I really think this will be the best for all of us. And, as a further peace offering, I've made you one of my specialties. An apple turnover." She holds out the food container.

Wow. Regina actually means it. She's ready to bury the hatchet. Emma knows she'll still have to get a lawyer, just to make sure the mediation process is fair. But this might actually work. She takes the container. "Thank you. Really. I only want what's best for Henry."

A grimace briefly flashes across Regina's face before she smiles again. "That's what we both want." She strides toward the door. "I'll contact you soon with information about the mediator, so we can set up our first session." Her eyes flick down to the turnover in Emma's hands. "And you can have Henry return that container next time he stops by." She lets herself out, and Emma stands still, staring at the door, feeling winded.

Her life has never been this easy. She feels like the other shoe has to drop soon.

~ ~ ~

"All she wanted to was bring something through from the other world. An item," Jefferson chokes out around the still taut scarf.

"And for that she promised to re-write your memories, and those of your daughter?" Killian says. How did the man ever fall for that?

"Yes." Jefferson coughs.

"Sorry to say it, mate, but you've been played." Killian releases the scarf and Jefferson bends forward, coughing some more. "If Regina used up the last of the magic in that crypt for you to fetch that item for her, then how the bloody hell is she supposed to re-write your memories?"

Jefferson rubs his throat and glares up at Killian. "There're still a few other places in town with some small traces of magic. The caverns under the library, for one. And the old wishing well, down by Dark Oak Road. There's not much, but it might be enough."

Killian shakes his head. "Regina has no intention of helping you, friend. Trust me. I helped her, once, and she turned me into a priest."

Jefferson stares down at the cabin floor. "I helped her once and she stranded me in Wonderland."

"My point exactly. Now, what is this item she had you bring through?"

Jefferson shakes his head, still rubbing his neck. "Nothing much. Just a trifle. An apple."

Killian freezes, his mind connecting the dots. "An apple?"

Jefferson nods and stands up. "An apple with a single bite missing."

No. She's had the apple for over an hour already. "Just like the apple she used to put Snow White into a cursed sleep."

Jefferson nodded. "She says that as soon as the savior is out of her way, she'll help change my memories."

A chill of fear suffuses Killian's body. _Emma_. "If Regina uses that apple on the savior, then this whole town is doomed to remain cursed and miserable for all eternity—you included. We have to stop Regina."

Jefferson frowns and shakes his head. "As long as there's a chance that she'll keep her bargain, I'm staying out of her way."

Killian steps up to him, pointing his hook at Jefferson's face. "There _is no chance_. You're daft if you don't see that."

Jefferson's eyes display his pain, and his mouth droops. "What choice do I have? I can't go on like this, and the curse won't let me die. I know. I've tried."

"You can choose to help me. Help me protect the savior. Help her break the curse. And then your daughter's memories will return, and you can be together again." What man wouldn't want that kind of reunion with his child?

Jefferson's voice wavers. "I… don't know."

"Help me. Do it for your daughter."

At last Jefferson nods. "Okay. I'll help. I won't go up against Regina in person, but I know a way to get Gold to turn on her, and quickly. He'll do our dirty work for us, and slow her down."

That's enough for Killian. "Good. Do it, whatever it takes. Right now. And I'll go to the savior to protect her. Let's go."

He runs out to his car and makes sure Jefferson follows. Soon they are both headed back into town.

Killian's heart races with fear. He needs to get to Emma before Regina does. To hell with whether Emma will ever forgive him or not—she needs him, and he won't let her down.

~ ~ ~ 

Emma is pleasantly surprised when Henry turns up at her door. "Hey kid, aren't you supposed to be in school?" she says as she ushers him in.

"I snuck away at recess," he says.

Emma rolls her eyes. He's a natural scoundrel, just like his dad. "Henry, with this custody thing about to get going you really can't leave school to see me anymore."

"I had to," he insists, practically jumping up and down. "There's something amazing happening at school. Tons of kids are talking about having weird dreams last night. Dreams about living on farms, or in castles, or in old-timey cities. And they keep saying that the dreams felt completely real. Emma—I think the curse is starting to break. You believe! You have to believe, now, don't you?"

Emma sighs. One of the things that needs to stop when this custody issue is resolved is Henry's obsession with the curse. Okay, so she was almost convinced for a night. That doesn't make it real. "Henry—I'm still not so sure about this curse thing. But one thing I am sure about is that my fight with Regina is about to be over."

Henry frowns. "What do you mean?"

"She came over this morning to make peace. She wants to meet with a mediator from the court and work out official, legal visitation rights for us. She gave in. She's ready to let me be an official part of your life. That's good news, right?" She smiles, hoping Henry will understand just how big this is.

His brows knit and he shakes his head. "I don't understand. Why would she do that?"

"Because she finally sees what's best for you," Emma says. "She's ready to play nice. She even made me an apple turnover as a peace offering." She gestures at the open container on the counter. "I was about to give it a try when you showed up. Maybe we can split it?"

Henry's eyes are wide as he runs up to the turnover and grabs it out of the container. "No! Don't you see—it's a trick. This is poisoned! She's just trying to get rid of you—to get rid of the savior."

This has to stop. Emma has to stop it. "Henry, this isn't a story. This is reality. And if this is going to work, things have to change. You can't skip school. You can't run away. And you can't believe in curses."

His face falls in a way that brings a lump to her throat. "You really don't believe?" he asks.

Emma shakes her head. "I can't, Henry. This is what's best. Okay?"

Henry's face hardens. "No. Everything she told you this morning was just a trick to get you to eat this. As long as you're alive, you're a threat to the curse."

Emma's heart aches. "Henry. You've got to stop thinking like this."

She sees a glint of steel in his eyes. "It's the truth. I'm sorry it had to come to this. You may not believe in the curse, or in me, but I believe in you." He takes a big bite of the turnover and starts chewing.

Fear flares in her heart for just a moment— _what if?_ —but then he keeps on chewing. She was right all along. There is no such thing as curses.

Then Henry's eyes close as he topples to ground, and Emma knows that her life will never be the same again.

 

Tbc


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story is looking like it'll run novel length, so anywhere from another 6-10 chapters or so. Hope you're in it for the long haul! Thanks for the continued support. <3 And once more a disclaimer: some lines were borrowed from OUAT episodes, and belong to them, not me.

There is a crowd milling around Emma's building when Killian pulls up, and his heart sinks. _Please, God, no._ He can't be too late.

He hops out of his car and walks up to Sam, one of his parishioners. "Hi Sam, what's going on?"

Sam's eyes go wide. "Are you here to see Sheriff Swan? Because she just rode off in an ambulance with her boy."

"Henry?" A chill of dread fills his chest. He dashes back to his car without waiting to hear Sam's answer. If something's happened to Henry, then all hell is about to break loose. Regina won't wait any longer to get Emma out of her way.

He ignores two stop signs in his race to the hospital. Nothing matters anymore except making sure that Emma and Henry are safe.

He screeches to a halt in the first parking space he can find and dashes inside. He doesn't even need to ask where to go—he sees the commotion and hears Emma's raised voice. Something is definitely wrong with Henry. Killian runs toward her.

"I already told you everything. Do something!" Emma's voice rings with desperation.

Killian barges into the emergency room just as Dr. Whale responds, and Emma is dumping the contents of Henry's backpack onto a table.

"I understand you're frustrated, Miss Swan. I do," says Whale. "But I need something to treat. Right now there is no explanation. It's like…"

Emma hears Killian enter and turns to meet his eyes, clutching Henry's book to her chest. "Killian." His name drops from her tongue, sounding both hopeful and anguished.

She steps up to him. "Tell me it's not all true. Tell me this isn't happening," she begs.

He glances to where Henry lies prone and lifeless, the doctor and nurses buzzing helplessly around him. His heart feels like lead in his chest. "What happened?" 

"Regina came to see me—she offered to make peace, and gave me an apple turnover." She shakes her head. "He only took one bite."

_Apples_. Killian knows his fairytales well enough to know exactly what it means when Regina gives someone an apple.

In a hoarse, desperate whisper, Emma says, "It's all true, isn't it? Henry's book—the curse—everything? It's all true."

Killian's heart breaks for her. She's only just found her son, and now he's slipping away and Killian has no idea how to help. He nods. "It is. I'm sorry, Emma. I'm so sorry."

He sees the way her eyes falter—he sees reality as she knew it shattering into pieces and a terrible new uncertainty taking its place. He wants nothing more than to take her in his arms and tell her that everything will be okay, but he can't. Not with Henry dying on the hospital bed next to them.

The moment is broken when Regina runs into the room. "Where's my son?"

Emma turns, her face taking on the cast of an angry tigress. "You did this," she says in a low growl, and strides forward. She grabs Regina and hauls her toward the nearby supply closet.

Killian follows close behind, his own anger building. It doesn't matter who that apple was intended for—Regina's reign has got to end. It's over.

He watches as Emma slams Regina against a cabinet. "He's sick because of you! The apple turnover you gave me! He ate it!"

Horror spreads on Regina's face. "It was meant for you!"

Emma keeps Regina pinned against the cabinet. "It's all true. All of it. But I don't even care anymore. We were making peace. Why couldn't you just leave me alone?"

"Because as long as you're alive Henry will never be mine!"

Emma shoves Regina a little harder. "He'll never be anyone's unless you wake him up."

"I can't!" Regina cries.

Killian steps forward, unable to contain himself. "The time for lies is past, darling. Tell us how to wake Henry, or I'll do nothing to stop her from ripping you limb from limb. In fact, I'll be inclined to help."

Regina's lip trembles as her eyes focus on him. "What? What are you doing here, pirate?"

"Your curse isn't as impenetrable as you thought, Your Highness," he says in a cold, clipped tone.

Tears well in her eyes, and they dart back to Emma before fixing on him again. "You. You're the reason the curse was failing." With an inhuman cry she pushes Emma off and rushes at him, knocking him into a shelving unit.

Killian grunts in shock and surprise, and raises his arms to ward off her blows.

"This is your fault, you son of a bitch! You fell for her, and the curse started failing, and now my son is dying! Because of you!" 

Killian manages to grab one of her arms and twists, spinning her and pinning the contorted arm against her back as she cries out in pain.

"I don’t enjoy striking women, but I'll make an exception for you, if you press me. There's no time to fight. Not when Henry's life is at stake."

Emma stalks forward and Killian releases Regina's arm as Emma grabs her jacket lapels and shakes her. "He's right! We need solutions and we need them now. There has to be a way to save him. Some sort of magic."

"I used the last of it making that turnover," says Regina softly. "I don't have any left. But there's someone who might help us."

"Gold," says Killian. It always comes back around to the crocodile, doesn't it?

Regina nods. She glances at Emma. "Actually he goes by Rumplestiltskin." 

Killian takes in the look of resigned desperation on Emma's face, and wishes with all his heart that he had some way to make this better. But no such way exists. 

He nods. "My car is right outside. I'll drive."

~ ~ ~

Emma slides into the shotgun seat next to Killian while Regina grumbles her way into the back and they speed away from the hospital.

It's a short drive. Not nearly long enough for Emma to get a firm grip on her new reality.

"I hope you can keep your vendetta in check long enough for us to get help," Regina snarls at Killian.

"I've restrained myself admirably for the past week, love. I'm sure I can keep it up," he replies in a sharp, humorless tone.

Emma glances at the lines of strain on Killian's face, and wonders briefly if he really is a naval officer. His odd familiarity with Regina speaks of something more—unless he served in _her_ navy. In which case can Emma really trust him?

But his words from last night still ring in her mind—telling her that everything between them is real. That his feelings for her are real.

She has no choice but to trust in that, and to believe that his feelings will be enough to keep him on her team while she fights for Henry. They can sort out the rest of the truth from the lies later, after Henry is better.

They jerk to a halt in front of Gold's shop and pile out, pushing through the door in an uncoordinated mass.

Gold stands just in front of his counter, his hands resting on the shoulders of a disheveled brunette wearing a baggy coat over what looks like a hospital gown.

His eyes flash with fury as they lock in on Regina. He steps in front of the strange woman and points at Regina. "You! You lied to me! You had her locked up this whole time!"

Emma hears Regina curse under her breath.

The woman behind Gold peeks around his shoulder. "She was in my dream. She was the one who kept me locked in a tower." Then she points at Killian. "He was there, too. He pretended to be there to rescue me, but when I didn't have what he wanted, he hit me!" She sounds terrified and manic and this is the last thing Emma can deal with right now.

"We don't have time for this!" she shouts. "Henry is dying because of a sleeping curse that she," she points at Regina, "tried to use on me. We need magic, and we need it now."

Gold glares at Regina with a snarl on his lips. "I told you magic comes with a price."

"Henry shouldn't have to pay it," says Regina, looking almost apologetic.

Gold reaches behind him to grab the hand of the frightened woman. Just what did Regina do to her? "Alas, we are where we are," he says in a harsh tone, looking only at Regina.

This has to stop. Henry can't wait for these old feuds to be settled. Emma steps forward. "This isn't about Regina. It's about Henry. Can you help us?"

Gold meets her gaze with hard eyes, and, after a moment's pause, nods. He begins waxing eloquent about the transcendent power of true love, and Emma grows more impatient with every passing second.

She tenses for just a moment as Killian moves up to stand beside her and rests his hand on her elbow, but then she stands a little taller. He may have hidden things from her, but it still helps to have him here. She's glad she doesn't have to do this alone.

Gold explains the creation of a true love potion from her parent's hairs, and how he used a single drop to build a safety valve into the dark curse.

"That's why I'm the savior. That's why I can break the curse." The final pieces fall into place and what remaining doubts she'd been holding onto fall away. She's in this. She has been from the beginning. And now it's time for her to accept her fate, or Henry might never come back.

She swallows hard and leans back into Killian's reassuring grip on her arm.

"I don't care about breaking the curse," she says honestly. To hell with them and their ancient power struggles. None of it matters now. "All I care about is saving Henry."

"Well," says Gold, rubbing the strange woman's hand with his thumb, "Today's your lucky day. I didn't use all of the potion. I saved some. For a rainy day."

"Well it's storming like a bitch. Where is it?" She clenches her fists at her side. If this doesn't work—if Henry doesn't make it… She doesn't know what she'll do. 

After Gold throws out a cryptic remark about the real trouble being how to get the potion, Regina chimes in. "Enough riddles. What do we do?"

"You do nothing," Gold snaps. "In fact, I won't say another word with you here in my shop. Go back to the hospital and sit with your son. Watch with bated breath as his life slips away from him, knowing that there is nothing you can do to stop it. No way you can help. That his fate is entirely in the hands of your sworn enemy." He points at Emma, and then glares back at Regina. "That will be the first of your punishments for what you did to Belle. But believe me, it won't be the last."

"Bullshit." Regina lunges toward Gold, a murderous look in her eyes, but Killian stops her, grabbing her arm and pulling her back.

"Do you want to give Henry a fighting chance or not?" Killian shouts. "If the price of that is sitting with your son instead of hunting for this potion, then do it! Don't let your old grudges get in the way of your son's life."

Regina yanks her arm out of Killian's grasp, but she remains silent. 

"Listen to him," says Emma, grateful more than ever to have Killian by her side. "Go to Henry. Hold his hand. Talk to him. Pray for him. Do whatever it takes to get him to hang in there. I'll find the potion. I promise."

Regina's face looks about to crumple with emotion before the hard edge returns to her eyes. "Fine. I'll go. But you'd better save him, or you'll pay." She looks around the room. "All of you will pay."

She spins and strides to the door. She pauses and looks back. "Don't trust them, Miss Swan. Either of them." With the clinking of bells she steps out and slams the door behind her.

Emma ignores Regina's parting jab—there's no time for more doubts—and turns back to Gold. "She's gone. Now help me. Tell me what I have to do."

Gold describes some old caverns hidden beneath the abandoned library, and a rickety manual elevator that is the only way down. 

"The only catch," he says, "is that the potion is guarded by a beast. You'll have to slay it before you can succeed."

Emma takes a shaky breath. Okay. Slay a beast. Well—she's never been hunting, but she's pretty good with her weapon. She'll manage somehow. She glances at Killian. He's already watching her, studying her, his gaze burning into her.

After this is all fixed she'll take the time to figure things out with him. But Henry comes first. Always. She swallows. "Have you ever slain a beast before?"

He nods, utter sincerity in his voice as he answers, "More than my fair share, I'd say."

"No," Gold cuts in. "She has to do it alone."

"What?" Killian frowns, shooting daggers out of his eyes at Gold. "Are you daft?"

The frightened woman gasps, and Gold pushes her behind him again. "She is the product of true love. She has to be one to find the potion. Besides, you need to stay at the top to operate the elevator."

"Why can't you do that?" Killian demands.

"I have to stay here and look after Belle," Gold replies in clipped tones.

Though the thought makes her guts wobble with fear, Emma steps forward. "Fine. I'll do it alone. It's for Henry." She turns her gaze to Killian. "I can manage."

He doesn't look happy about it, but he nods in agreement.

Gold nods. "You'll need one more thing. Give me a moment." He leads the woman, Belle, (Emma doesn't even want to think about the implications of that one, right now) to the back room of his shop, and emerges alone, carrying a long case. He lays it on the counter and pops it open.

"The right tool for the job," he says, gesturing down at the long, shining steel sword. "Your father's sword."

Emma takes a deep breath and reaches out to grip the hilt, lifting the blade. She wishes this were just a dream. Why the hell can't it be a dream?

Killian steps up. "You don't have the grip quite right. Here." He reaches his arms around her from behind and adjusts her hands on the hilt. She feels something click inside her as he guides her grip into place—like she was born to hold this sword.

The warmth of his arms around her helps steady her nerves. Just two days ago she'd been ready to have everything with him—to let herself be happy. Why couldn't her life have stayed simple and happy? None of this was fair.

He nods, his breath dancing against her neck for a moment before he lets go and steps back. "There. That'll do. Can you remember that?"

"Yeah. I've got it." She slides the blade into the sheath and tucks it under her arm. "Let's go."

"Ah—just a moment," Gold buts in. "I need a private word with the pirate, first."

_Pirate_. Regina used the same word when she first saw him at the hospital. Emma stares at Killian—just who was he? 

Later. It can wait until later.

Killian nods. "Go to the hospital first. Say goodbye to Henry, just in case. I'll meet you at the library in fifteen minutes."

Emma doesn't like the sound of that "just in case," but in her gut she knows she needs to do it. She has to see Henry one more time before she does this, to remind her exactly what's at stake.

Killian hands her his car keys. "Go. I'll meet you there."

Emma nods, and leaves the shop, her heart pounding the whole drive back to the hospital.

Regina's only beaten her there by a minute or two, and still looks winded standing beside Henry.

Emma picks up the fairytale book and hands it to her. "Read it to him. It'll give him something to hang onto."

Regina, looking more shaken than ever as she stares down at Henry's unmoving form, nods. "I will."

"And let's be clear, Your Majesty," Emma feels compelled to add, "the only reason you're still alive is because I need your help to save Henry. He dies, so do you."

Regina nods quietly, a scornful look in her eyes. Emma doesn't even give a damn.

She squeezes Henry's hand one last time. "I'll be back soon."

Time to slay a beast.

~ ~ ~ 

As soon as Emma is out the door, Killian turns to Gold, folding his arms across his chest. He needs to regain the upper hand, and fast.

He glances at the back room. "I see you got the present Jefferson and I arranged for you."

"So this was your doing?"

Killian can't tell whether Gold is annoyed, angry, or overwhelmed. Probably all three at once. "We wanted you to know who your real enemies are."

Gold's eyes narrow. "I'm still inclined to put you at the top of that list, captain."

Killian grinds his teeth together at the thought of Gold getting the happy ending he's always wanted—Bae and Belle, all wrapped up in a shiny bow for him once the curse breaks. But now that Killian has the dagger, he has the means to stop it. Not that he plans on sharing that information with Gold, yet. "We have unfinished business, you and I. But right now Henry's welfare is my only concern."

Gold lets out a short, scoffing huff. "We'll see about that. I'll let you help Emma in this quest, but you need to do something for me."

Dropping his arms to his sides and rolling his fingers into a fist Killian steps closer to Gold, glaring down into his eyes. "First off, you're not _letting me_ do anything. I've chosen to help Emma, and nothing will stop me. And secondly, there is nothing on this earth or any other that I _need_ to do for _you_."

"Yes." Gold's voice is slipping back into the cadences of the Dark One. "There is. And it's not just for me. It's for all of us. You have to break this curse."

Killian shakes his head. "Only Emma can break the curse."

Gold waves his hand in the air. "Well she's a bit distracted at the moment, isn't she? I built her power to break the curse into it from the start, but the exact mechanics of it weren't so specific. Now that she believes, the curse is crumbling. If we had a few weeks—or even a few days—it would collapse completely and everyone's memories would be completely restored. But we don't have that kind of time."

"What does it matter if the curse breaks today or in a week? What does that have to do with Henry?" Killian frowns, knowing he won't like the answer.

"Because without magic, the sleeping curse isn't just putting Henry to sleep. It's killing him. We need to bring magic to Storybrooke to save him, and we can only bring magic back if the curse is broken. Completely broken—not just faltering."

"And you know how to bring magic back, do you?" Killian folds his arms again.

"I do."

"And how do I know you're not just feeding me a pack of lies to benefit your own agenda?" Killian won't trust the crocodile as far as he can throw him.

Gold leans in, a sinister smile on his face. "You don't. But is that really a risk you're willing to take? What if you cost Henry his life? How will you ever forgive yourself? How will _Emma_ ever forgive you?"

Killian takes a deep breath, frowning deeper. Damn him. The crocodile is right. He can't risk Henry by ignoring Gold's insights. "Fine. You want me to break the curse. How?"

"True Love's Kiss, of course." Gold raises his hands at his sides with his old stylized gestures.

A hard knot twists in Killian's chest. "I tried. It didn't work."

Gold cocks an eyebrow. "Didn't it? So what started the curse crumbling? Did Booth manage to kiss her, too? Is he the one I should be talking to?"

"No he's bloody not," says Killian, barely holding himself back from lashing out with his fist. "But even it _did_ work, like you say, it won't work again. She knows I lied to her. She's not ready to forgive me for that."

Gold's voice softens, the Dark One dropping from his visage to be replaced by the lonely shopkeeper. "Being angry at someone doesn't stop you from loving them."

Killian can hear the weight of sad experience in Gold's voice, and for the first time he feels a spark of sympathy. Perhaps when this is all over he'll find a way to forgive the man, after all. But not today.

"So I'm just supposed to grab her and lay one on her while she's focused on helping her son? I'm not sure that's such a good idea." Killian grimaces at the thought.

Gold scowls. "I'm sure you'll manage. But you need to do it. Sooner rather than later, or it may be too late for Henry."

Doubts still flood through Killian's mind. She can't love him—he'd see it in her eyes. He'd know. Wouldn't he? It could have just been August's words and his combined that pushed her into belief and started the curse crumbling. The kiss might have had nothing to do with it. "You're so sure it'll work?" he says softly.

Gold nods, still frowning. "It'll work. Don't back out of this, pirate, or I'll find a way to make you rue the day you escaped from Neverland."

Killian takes his leave from Gold's shop and jogs to the library. It only takes him a minute with a hard rock to break the lock and open the doors. His mind is filled with a combination of worry for Henry, and doubt regarding Gold's assertion that he can help Emma break the curse. He can't force himself on her like that. He won't.

No—if she comes to him for comfort, he'll try. But not otherwise. Emma will find the potion and that will be enough to save Henry, curse or no curse. Gold wants something for himself, here. Not for Emma or Henry.

He pushes up the mural wall that hides the old elevator and plays with the controls until he's sure of how to operate it. After a few moments he hears the door open, and turns to see Emma walking in, sword in hand.

In spite of what she must be feeling right now she looks so strong—so determined. The power she carries with her in spite of her painful life is awe-inspiring. He knows, seeing her like this, that he'll love her until the day he dies, whether she ever returns his affections or not.

"The elevator's ready," he says. "I only wish I could go down there with you."

She squeezes her lips into a tense line, her eyes softening with fear as she steps a little closer to him. "Yeah. Me too. But you heard the man. It's got to be me."

She's less than a foot away from him. He could reach out right now and take her in his arms. He could try that kiss Gold places so much credence in. 

But her whole frame radiates her tension, coiled and ready for action. Not for him—for Henry.

To hell with Gold.

"Never turn your back on it," he says quickly. "And make eye contact. As much as you can. Let it know that you're not afraid. You can do this Emma. I believe in you."

She nods, her eyes still locked on his, and for an instant he can swear that she leans toward him, but then it's over and she's pivoting away to step into the elevator. "Okay. Let's do this."

 

tbc


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for the continued support. <3 As usual, a disclaimer: some lines were borrowed from OUAT episodes, and belong to them, not me.

The sight of the broken glass coffin stops Emma's heart. She runs her fingers over it absently, studying the intricate design. This is her past—her _real_ past—and it still feels more like a dream. What did she do to deserve this crap-fest of a life?

She swallows. Later. She can cope with this later. She takes a deep breath to steady herself, and that's when she hears movement behind her.

She spins and her eyes travel up and up and up…

Fuck. As much as she appreciates Killian's last minute advice, how the hell is she supposed to maintain eye contact with a dragon?

She drops the sword and pulls out her gun, her whole body shaking. _For Henry_.

~ ~ ~

The ten minutes after Killian lowers the elevator are the longest ten minutes of his life.

He paces the library restlessly, cursing Gold and Regina in language that would make his bishop blush. (If his bishop is real. Is he real?).

He should have ignored Gold's demand and gone down in Emma's place. He knows to handle nasty beasts and he has the scars to prove it. Why the hell did he let her go alone?

He hears the muffled sound of distant gunfire and rushes to the elevator shaft, leaning against the doors—listening. 

His heart races. If he loses her… He _can't_ lose her. 

He cries out in frustration and pounds his fist against the wall. Anguish and helplessness overcome him, and he slumps forward, resting his forehead against the smooth wood of the wall. His memories—the new ones—gently remind him that even if he can't be down there with her, there is still a way he can help.

"God my Father," he prays earnestly, "I don't know if you listen to the poor souls in this accursed town, but if you do, please, please Father, send your help to Emma Swan. Bless her with the strength and speed and courage that she needs to overcome the beast. Bless her to come out of this alive. And bless her son Henry to hang onto life long enough for us to help him. Please, Father, heed my prayer and send Emma and Henry your aid."

He squeezes his eyes closed and curls his fingers against the wall, seeking for something to hold onto. "I love her, Father. Please, please help her."

An echoing boom rings up the elevator shaft, and Killian gasps, darting to the door and clinging to it, as if he could look down and see what's happening.

"Emma?" He calls. "Emma!"

There is no response, not that she was likely to hear him. He leans back against the elevator doors and drops his head into his hand, waiting. Waiting. Waiting.

He hears the dull clang of the sword banging against the elevator rail—the signal that means Emma is ready to come back up.

He lets out his shaking breath, and smiles for the first time in over a day. Quickly he turns the wheel to bring the elevator back up. "Thank you, God. Thank you."

As soon as the door opens Emma tumbles out, her eyes wide with wonder and an ornate jeweled golden egg cradled in her arm. "I did it," she says in a tone that sounds almost like a question. "I killed a dragon."

"A dragon?!" That bloody imp sent her in alone to face a dragon?

She nods. "Yeah. But I did it. I did it." She sounds only slightly less surprised with each repetition, and Killian feels his chest swelling with admiration.

"You are a true marvel, Emma Swan. I've never seen the like." He smiles, and, to his surprise, she smiles back.

"Come on," she says. "Let's get this to Henry."

They both have a new spring in their step as they head for the door, and for a moment Killian lets himself believe that somehow all this will work out for the best in the end.

They step through the double doors together and turn toward his car. The burst of gunfire rings in Killian's ears just as a blinding pain explodes in his shoulder and he finds himself tumbling backward to ground.

~ ~ ~

Emma can't stop the strangled, shocked cry from escaping her lips as Killian falls, and she drops to her knees beside him, her sword and the egg clattering to the ground. "Killian!" She holds her hand over him, unsure of what to do as he clutches at his bloody shoulder and groans in pain.

Pain because he was shot. Someone shot him. Oh shit.

By the time she snaps out of her shock and thinks to look, Gold, gun still in hand, is crouching a few feet away, scooping the egg into his arms.

_Henry_.

"No!" she cries, half-rising.

"Eh, eh, Miss Swan," says Gold, standing straight and pointing the gun at her. "Be careful not to make any sudden movements. I'm feeling a bit jumpy."

Killian continues to groan beside her, a red stain spreading on the pavement beneath him.

_God, no_. 

All her anger and pain from last night is gone at the prospect of losing him for good. This can't be happening. Killian is the only person she has left on her side in this shit storm of a fairytale nightmare that is her life. She _needs_ him—almost as much as she needs Henry. The two people she cares about most in the world are both dying, and Gold is responsible for both.

Tears well in her eyes. "Why? Why?" 

"I have my reasons," says Gold with a sneer. "I think I may have nicked an artery with that shot. You'd best give your lover a kiss goodbye, before it's too late." He backs away as he speaks, still pointing the gun at her.

Emma's never hated anyone as much as she hates Gold in this moment. She was going to save Henry and everything would be alright, but he's taking her last hope away from her. He's destroying everything.

He slips into his still-running car and speeds away before she has a chance to get to her feet. She sobs, feeling more lost and helpless than she ever has before.

Killian groans again as he props himself on his elbow. 

"He took the potion. He took it," she says, her voice breaking. Her chest aches and her whole body feels weak.

But there's no time for wallowing. She has to get Killian to the hospital. Then at least she'll be with both of them. Maybe it's not too late. Maybe they can still find another way…

Killian rolls to his knees, wincing and moaning, his left arm hanging limp, his tattered black coat covered in a large, dark, wet stain from his blood.

"What the hell are you doing?" she asks, aghast, and reaches out, still uncertain if she can touch him without making things worse.

"Standing up," he groans, pushing himself to his feet.

"Be careful!" She jumps to her feet beside him, overcoming her fear and grabbing his uninjured arm to steady him. "We need to get you to the hospital."

"No." Killian shakes his head, his face still contorted in pain. "You go to the hospital. Go be with Henry, before it's too late. I'm going after Gold."

"Are you crazy? You've been shot!"

"I've survived worse," he says with a grim look on his face that brooks no argument. His stance firms up beneath her grip, and he shrugs off her hand and walks to where the sword lays on the sidewalk. He bends to pick it up, only a small groan betraying the pain he must be in.

If there's still a chance to get the potion back, Emma needs to be a part of it. "I'm going with you. You can't do this alone. Not in your condition. We need that potion."

"No," says Killian, using the sheathed sword as a crutch to brace himself in front of her. "Right now the potion is just the back-up plan."

Emma doesn't know whether to sob or shout. "I don't understand."

Killian steps a little closer, holding her eyes with his intense blue gaze. "Emma, Gold went to great lengths to manipulate us into retrieving that potion for him. It may not even do what he claims. We can't think of it as anything but a back-up plan at this point."

"What else do we have?" Her tears spill down her cheeks—it's not worth fighting them anymore.

"We have you," he says softly.

Emma swallows hard and shakes her head. It's everything August was saying last night, but it's all too much. They can't all depend on her like this. She can't do it.

"Emma—you heard what Gold said about you. You're brimming with power. Extraordinary power, and neither he nor Regina know how to control it. That's why they're scrambling to get the upper hand. Because you are the one, Emma. The mere power of your belief has started crumbling the strongest curse ever cast—you have to have seen the signs all around you all day. And yes, I lied to you about who I am. But not for long. My old memories didn't return to me until a week ago when we kissed for the first time. It was your kiss that woke me up. Emma—the power is in you. That's what Henry needs right now, more than any mysterious potion. He needs you to be with him. Talk to him. Hold his hand. Tell him how much you love him. Pour that power out into him." He nods slowly. The lines on his face and the strain in his voice speak to the pain he must be in, but he's not backing down. "You are the key, Emma. You can save him."

"Why do you believe in me so much?" Her voice wavers and more tears roll down her cheeks. 

"I believe in you because you already saved _me_." 

Emma hears the unspoken feelings behind his words. She can feel it buzz through her like electricity. No one has ever loved her like this before. No one except Henry.

"Go to him, Emma. Go save your son. Let me be your back-up." She glances at the wound in his shoulder, and the lines of pain on his face. This isn't another attempt at manipulation. This isn't another lie. He believes every word he's saying. And so does she.

She takes a deep breath and lets his belief fill her up. She can do this. She can be the savior.

She pulls out her gun and tucks it in his right jacket pocket. "There's only three rounds left. Make them count, and don't let Gold get another shot at you." Then she moves to the car, opens the door and sticks the keys in the ignition. "Take it," she says. "You can't walk in your condition."

"Thank you," he says, wincing as he moves toward the car.

Emma swallows hard, stepping out of his way. "Be careful, Killian. I don't want to lose you."

He smiles—a slight, desperately hopeful smile. "I'll do all I can to get that potion, and I'll come back to you. I promise."

He can't promise that—not really—not in his condition—and they both know it. She may never see him alive again, and that thought terrifies her. But she has to make a choice, and Killian knows as well as she does that she'll choose Henry every time. ( _But he loves her anyway._ Even if she doesn't choose him, he still chooses her, and that scares her as much as losing him, but there's no time to think about it. No time to worry about how damn much it'll hurt if this turns out to be a permanent goodbye.)

He tosses the sword into the passenger seat and looks at her one last time. "Go, Emma. Go to your son."

Emma nods, unable to speak. Unable to say goodbye. Instead she turns and begins running toward the hospital, not looking back.

She replays Killian's words in her mind again and again. _She is brimming with power—extraordinary power—she saved Killian, and she can save Henry too. She believes. She believes._

As she runs, out of the corners of her eyes she notices people stopping in their tracks to watch her pass. They drop what they're carrying. They stumble. They gawk.

Something is happening. Something powerful. Just like Killian said.

_I saved him. I believe._

She's panting for breath when she finally gets to the hospital, but she doesn't stop. She sweeps down the corridors, the people around her freezing in their tracks with stunned looks on their faces as she passes.

She gets to the emergency room where Henry still lies prone, only to find Dr. Whale walking toward her. "I'm sorry, Miss Swan. He's go—"

Dr. Whale stops, swaying, raising a hand to his head and blinking as if he's been slapped, but Emma doesn't pay attention. All she can see is Henry's still body, Regina weeping beside him, and the diagnostic monitor displaying flat, unchanging lines.

She's too late.

~ ~ ~

Every turn of the steering wheel or shift of his leg sends new waves of pain shooting through Killian's body. He grits his teeth and presses forward. If he stops, he knows he'll never be able to get going again.

Gold's Cadillac is pulling away from the pawn shop just as Killian arrives.

It's a stroke of providence—or good guesswork. Killian had hoped Gold would stop to pick up Belle before going wherever it is he's going.

Killian turns his car to follow, not caring if Gold notices him following. He doesn't have the luxury of caring right now. He also has no way of stopping Gold—he can't ram him without passing out from the pain, and he can't shoot at Gold's car because he needs his one functional arm to steer the car. All he can do is follow.

Killian winces again as the car hits a pothole and fresh blades of pain stab at him. He's almost glad for the regular bursts of pain—he's feeling lightheaded from blood loss, and the pain keeps him conscious and focused.

As he drives he thinks back on his grand speech to Emma. He's not entirely certain where it came from. It felt almost like someone else speaking through his lips. The religious man in him thinks it was divine assistance, but the man who was three-centuries a cynic thinks it was just a pleasant story made up to give Emma a chance at a final goodbye with her son. 

But it doesn't have to be final. Not if Gold will just stop his damn car.

With a sudden lurch, Gold turns onto Dark Oak Road, the winding gravel road through the woods at the edge of town. Killian knows where he is going, now—one of the few places that still contains traces of magic, like Jefferson told him. The old wishing well.

Sure enough, at the base of the short trail to the well Gold's Cadillac jerks to a halt. Killian stops right behind him.

He gasps in pain as he fumbles to open the door. He manages to jimmy the sword out of its sheath and steps out of his car just as Gold is stepping out of his own, gun in hand, pointed right at Killian.

Gold's face twists in a snarl. "You had one job. One bloody job! How hard can it be to kiss the woman you love? You were supposed to break the curse before I got here!"

Killian forces a smirk onto his face and steps around his car to stand facing Gold with no obstacle between them.

Belle slips out of the car and stands staring at him with wide, frightened eyes.

"You forget, crocodile," Killian says, pointing the sword at him, "I'm not in this to break the curse. Nor am I in it for myself. I'm in this for Emma and Henry. They are my sole purpose, now. And you have something they need. I suggest you hand it over."

"Not likely," replies Gold, still pointing his gun.

"Why do you need it, anyway? What good will that potion do you?"

"It'll bring magic to Storybrooke," Gold says with a grim smile. "I'll have my power back. I won't have to resort to petty weapons like this one—I can just rip your heart out of your chest and squeeze it into dust in front of your face."

"What are you talking about?" says Belle suddenly, in a horrified tone, and Gold's hard expression falters. "I thought you said you were my friend. That you would help me!"

Killian can sympathize with the girl—not even half of her memories have returned. She doesn't recall what Gold is capable of.

"He's threatening us, Belle," says Gold, quickly changing his tone to something less diabolical. "I have to protect us."

"Don't listen to him, Belle," says Killian, seizing his chance. "He's not a good man. He's a liar and a killer." Killian leans the sword against the side of the car and steps away from it. "See? I'm not threatening anyone. And see my shoulder? This is a gunshot. He did this to me."

"Don't listen to him, Belle." Gold shifts his eyes between the two of them. "He's nothing but a lying pirate."

"I am a priest trying to save the life of a dying child," says Killian.

Belle looks on the verge of tears.

Taking his chances, Killian steps ever closer to Gold until he stands little more than a foot in front of the pointed gun. "Go on then," he says. "Show her who you really are. I know you want to. I'm sure Emma will find another way to break the curse without me."

He holds Gold's gaze, and he can see the man's resolve wavering.

With a cry of disgust and frustration, Gold drops the gun and tucks it inside his coat pocket. "This isn't over, pirate. I'll have my turn once magic is here."

Belle sobs, and Killian isn't sure if it's out of relief or confusion.

Time for Killian to play his final card. "Are you so sure of that? I thought the Dark One couldn't harm the master of the dagger."

Gold freezes, his eyes getting ever-so-slighting wider. "You're lying," he says in a hissing whisper.

Killian winces in pain as he shifts his stance, and raises an eyebrow. "Oh, so the dagger I found under the shrubs in front of the sheriff's station isn't the one that controls you? My mistake."

Gold's face falls and his whole body seems to shiver.

Good. Killian's found exactly the leverage he needs. "How about you play nice and hand over that potion. Then, perhaps, I'll take pity on you and return your precious dagger." 

A flood of conflicting emotions cross Gold's face. He dips his hand inside his jacket and pulls out a small glass bottle filled with a pink, shining potion.

Killian's heart races. This is actually working. He's going to bring the potion back to Emma, just as he promised.

Gold's eyes dart between the potion and Killian's outstretched hand before returning to meet Killian's eyes.

"You're bluffing."

"You know I’m not," Killian replies. "Now give me the potion."

Gold's hand shakes as he brings the potion a little closer to Killian's grasp.

~ ~ ~

Regina rises from her chair and steps toward Emma, a look of desperate hope in her eyes above her tear-stained cheeks. "Do you have it? Do you have the potion?"

Emma swallows hard and stares back at Henry. This can't be happening. This isn't how it was supposed to end. _She believes, God damn it!_

"No. Gold took it. He shot Killian and he took it."

Regina crumples, bending almost double and clinging to the side of Henry's bed to keep herself from falling. She sobs again and again.

A tear rolls down Emma's cheek.

This can't be how it ends. 

She steps toward Henry and runs her shaking hand over his cheek. He still feels warm. He's not gone. She refuses to believe that he's gone.

Emma closes her eyes, fighting back her tears. Henry told her she'd bring back the happy endings. How is _this_ a happy ending?

In Henry's book, when Snow White ate a poisoned apple, Prince Charming's kiss broke the spell. And Killian—it hurt to think of him now—Killian told her it was her kiss that woke him from the curse.

His words echo in her mind. _The power is in you._

She leans over her son, gently brushing his hair back from his face. "I love you, Henry," she whispers. She places a single kiss on his forehead.

Like a gust of wind she feels a wave of power rush through her, and Henry gasps, his eyes flying open.

Emma sobs in joy. It worked. Just like Killian had said it would. It worked!

Henry smiles up at her. "I love you too. You saved me!"

Emma never believed she would ever feel so much joy as she does right now. She clings to Henry's hand and smiles.

She did it. She believed.

~ ~ ~

A wave of power rushes across Killian like an ocean wave and he stumbles, almost falling until he catches himself against the side of Gold's car.

Gasping his pain, he looks up to see Belle's eyes locked on Gold. "Rumplestiltskin," she says, emotion filling her voice, "I remember."

Emma did it. She broke the curse. Killian smiles in spite of his pain.

Killian turns to look at Gold, still bracing himself against the car for support.

Gold is looking at Belle, a broken smile on his face as she says, "I love you."

"I love you too," he replies. "There'll be time for that later. But first, there's something I must do."

Killian's eyes go wide as Gold raises his cane. No.

Before Killian can lift his good arm in defense, the cane comes down hard on his wounded shoulder.

He screams and collapses against the side of the car.

"Rumple!" Belle yells, but it's too late to stop him.

By the time Killian can see clearly again, Gold is more than halfway to the well.

"No!" he yells. But there's no use.

Gold stops beside the well and smiles. He extends the bottle of potion out over the opening of the well, and lets it drop.

Killian closes his eyes and drops his head, letting the pain wash over him. He failed. He made Emma a promise, and he failed.

He whispers a prayer. "Please let Henry be safe. Please let him be well."

He's failed them, but some other power might yet be of aid. _Please._

Blinking his eyes against the pain and regret, he lifts his head. Billowing purple smoke pours out of the well, swirling toward him. Gold, a tight smirk on his face, walks with it.

"Rumple—what are you doing?" says Belle, finally stepping around the car and walking toward Gold.

Gold only glances at her for a moment before turning his eyes back to Killian. "I'm making sure that this dastardly pirate can never hurt you again."

"Rumple—he's hurt enough. He was only trying to help a child. Rumple!" she grabs at his arm, but he presses forward, shrugging her off until he stands just in front of Killian.

Killian takes a deep breath, bracing himself, silently praying that his years of godly service will count for something in the hereafter.

"Trust me Belle—this man will never leave us in peace unless I end things right now. I'm only doing it to protect you."

"Rumple, no—!" Belle cries as Gold lunges his hand toward Killian's chest…

…and freezes.

With a grimace on his face, Gold tries to push forward, but it is as if an invisible barrier stands in his way. He pulls back and waves his hand. Nothing happens.

Killian lets out his breath and starts to chuckle. "It worked," he says.

Gold scowls.

Belle clutches at Gold's arm. "Rumple—what's happening?"

Killian laughs louder, in spite of the pain it sends shooting through his wounded shoulder. "What happened, my dear, is that your lover is incapable of harming me. The Dark One cannot harm his own master."

Killian pushes off of the car to stand as straight and tall as he can manage. "Your reign of terror is over, Rumplestiltskin. I'm in charge now."

 

tbc


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this part took so long. Real life obligations got in the way. The next chapter should come a lot faster. Standard disclaimer: a few lines of dialog were borrowed from the show; none of it belongs to be, etc.

Killian continues to grin in spite of the pain in his shoulder that's since spread downward through his entire left side.

The dark look of barely contained fury in Gold's eyes is enough to make him feel giddy and more than a little insane.

For three hundred years he planned this, lived this, dreamed this, breathed this—his life sustained by little more than his unending drive for vengeance. He would find a way to best the Dark One, and, if he could, he'd make him suffer before the end.

Now it's all here; right here, in front of him.

His head feels dizzy and his legs tremble beneath him—he knows the pain and blood loss are affecting him. But even through the pain-and-power-mad-haze in his mind another thought intrudes.

Emma broke the curse—but was it enough to save Henry, too?

Killian swallows his sudden lust for revenge and leans against the car again, feeling hollow. Empty. Lost.

No. He can't fall back into that abyss. Having the means of his revenge at his fingertips is no excuse—it's a test. One he means to pass. He's committed to following a higher, better way. He'll never be worthy of Emma's forgiveness if he gives into the darkness again—especially when Henry might still need his help.

He raises his eyes to Gold's once more. "We have work to do, Dark One. To get things started, let me make sure this new trick works as well as I hope it does. I command you—heal my wound."

Gold's face twists in frustration. Belle steps toward him and rests her fingertips on his arm. "Rumple?"

The poor lass has no idea what she's gotten herself into.

Gold, nostrils flaring, finally steps forward and waves his hand over Killian's wounded shoulder.

Killian sighs as the pain instantly vanishes.

Gold steps back, glaring at him. "Satisfied?"

Killian moves his left arm hesitantly, testing the wound. His arm swings freely, without a trace of pain. Though he still feels weak from blood loss, the wound is clearly healed. He smiles and nods. "Indeed I am." He catches Gold's eyes and raises an eyebrow. "It seems we're partners now. With me as managing partner, of course."

Gold's scowl deepens, and Belle turns her eyes on Killian. "You won't hurt him, will you?"

"You mean like he hurt me?" Killian points at the blood-stained wreck of his coat. "No. I won't. As long as he continues to cooperate." He stands straighter and steps toward Gold. "If Henry has perished because you dropped that potion into the well, I might reconsider. Take us to the hospital. As fast as you can."

Gold grimaced. "As you wish."

~ ~ ~

Henry sits up and smiles at Emma. "The curse. I think you broke it."

Emma's heart pounds in her chest as she smiles back. "Yeah. I think I did." This still feels more like a dream than any reality she's ever known. But she felt the power—she felt it flowing out of her. Just like Killian said.

Whatever crazy life she has now, she gladly accepts it. Because Henry is alright. He's here, he's safe, and she'll never let him go again.

"It was True Love's Kiss," says Mother Superior, stepping forward with a smile.

Regina shakes her head. "No. No!"

All the while Emma's head is spinning. With one hand she clutches Henry's hand, desperately happy that he's alive and well. But so much has happened in so little time—it's hard to make sense of it all.

Killian told her it was her kiss that woke him up. And then there was the kiss they shared in his office two days ago—the kiss that made her see and hear things that weren't there. And after shooting Killian, Gold's parting advice to her had been that she ought to kiss him goodbye.

True Love's Kiss. She'd seen it in the Disney movies—she'd read it in storybooks. Now she lives in a world where it's real. Where she's _done_ it.

Had Gold expected her to break the curse with Killian? 

At that thought her heart leaps into her throat, and she looks down at her free hand—the one spotted with blood from Killian's wound.

He's still out there.

Before Emma can act, Regina rushes toward Henry. "Henry. No matter what you think—no matter what anyone tells you—I do love you."

Emma sees the tears in her eyes—she hears the sincerity in her voice. Regina truly does love her son. She just has a hell of a twisted way of showing it.

With a last deep breath, Regina turns and flees from the room.

At last Emma catches her breath and focuses her thoughts. "Kid," she says to Henry, "As soon as we get a chance we're getting you a big ice cream sundae to celebrate. But first I need to go. I need to find Killian." Gunshots to the shoulder don't kill someone right away, but if he doesn't get treatment soon things could get ugly.

She saved Henry, but she won't trade saving him for losing Killian. She won't lose anyone. Not if she can help it. She can process what all this means later. For right now she just knows she has to find him.

Henry frowns. "Why? What's going on?"

"It's a long story. Gold shot him, but he's still out there trying to help us. Now that you're okay he's the one who needs help."

Henry's eyes are wide, but he doesn't waste time with questions. Just swings his legs over the side of the bed and hops up. "I'm coming with you. Where are my clothes?"

Emma is too thrilled at the sight of him and too afraid to leave him alone to put up a fight. She just nods and heads to the table where they piled all his clothes when they took them off. She tosses him the bundle and gestures to the medical staff. "Hey—give the kid some privacy."

She quickly helps Henry pull all the sensors off of his chest, and then steps away from his bed and pulls the curtain closed so he can change. She hopes the kid can move fast—she's getting more anxious about Killian with every passing moment. But she doesn't want to leave Henry alone right now, either. They're doing this together.

"Mom! Look!"

At Henry's cry, Emma yanks back the curtain and dashes up to him. "What? What's wrong?"

He only points out the window. Emma stares with wide eyes at the billows of glowing purple smoke as they crash into the window and swirl up and over the building. "What the hell is that?"

"Magic," says Mother Superior softly from behind her. "Somehow, magic has come to Storybrooke."

Emma clenches her teeth. For a moment she wonders if the smoke will sweep them all away to some enchanted fairytale land, but then it starts to clear. Good—getting stuck in the middle of a storybook world is that last thing she has energy for today. 

While Henry ties his shoes she stuffs his things back into his backpack. "Here you go. Let's get out of here." She hands the bag to him and he slings it over his shoulders.

Emma takes his hand and they walk out of the emergency room together—only to find Killian in the hospital lobby, walking toward them.

Her heart leaps at the sight of him still on his feet. She can't stop a smile from curving the corners of her lips at the grin of joy on his face when he sees Henry.

"Lad! You're all right!" Killian strides toward them without any signs of pain, but the torn and bloody coat he wears makes Henry's jaw drop.

"Killian! We need to get you to the emergency room," says Henry.

Emma's in agreement, but Killian shakes his head, crouching to meet Henry's eyes. "I might look a fright, but I assure you, I'm perfectly well." He glanced up at Emma, the soft eager smile in his eyes making her heart flip. "As the two of you may have noticed, magic has come to Storybrooke—thanks to Gold and his stolen potion." 

He gestures with a tilt of his head, and Emma sees Gold standing near the door. His still-disheveled girlfriend, Belle, clings to his arm (Emma really doesn't want to think about that one, yet. She used to _love_ that movie—now she might need to reconsider.)

"Once the magic was back, I was able to convince him to heal me," Killian continued.

Emma knit her brows. "Wait—he tried to kill you an hour ago. Now he's healing you? I don't get it."

Killian's expression hardens for a moment. "I have some leverage over him that he wasn't expecting. We've come to something of an understanding." His eyes soften again and he shakes his head. "In any case, if he'd truly meant to kill me, I'd be dead. For now I'm willing to let it go."

"Really? I mean, I know about the whole turn-the-other-cheek thing you believe in, but is this really the time? I have more than enough cause to arrest him." She still remembers exactly how she felt as she watched Killian's blood pooling out beneath him on the pavement—exactly how his groans of pain sounded. He might be fine now, but he could have died. That's not something she'll forget anytime soon.

Killian looked at Gold again, this time his face more sad than anything else. "The day may come when we decide a prison is the best place for him. But for now I have reason to believe he'll behave himself. I think Belle will be a calming influence. Let it go for now, Swan. He'll still be here in a day or two if we change our minds."

Emma still thinks this might be a mistake, but she nods. She's too happy to have both Henry and Killian safe and sound to make this an issue right now. "Okay. Whatever you say."

She watches as Killian walks over to Gold.

"Go home. Give Belle a good meal and a change of clothes," says Killian. "And whatever you do—don't hurt anyone with this magic of yours. Is that clear?"

Gold nods, a deep scowl on his face. "Perfectly." He turns, pulling Belle with him, and leaves the hospital.

Emma, still holding Henry's hand—so warm and vibrant in hers—walks to join Killian. She smiles up at him. "So, what now?"

Killian smiles first at her, and then at Henry. "If I'm not mistaken, the two of you have a family out there that will be very eager to see you."

Henry's face lights up. "Yeah!"

But Emma's stomach lurches. Oh, God. She hadn't even thought of that, yet. Mary Margaret—David. Her family. The family that gave her up.

Crap.

Killian's expression falters as he watches her. "Emma—I know this won't be easy, but… I'll be with you, if want me to be. And Henry. You can do this."

"Let's go, Mom. Please?" says Henry.

The word _mom_ makes her stomach lurch even more. She was getting ready to be his mom full-time. She wants it. But she didn't expect her whole world to be turned upside down so radically in the process. So much has changed in just one day. She swallows hard and hesitates—but how can she say no to that smile on Henry's face? A smile she was afraid she'd never see again.

"Okay. Let's go find them," she says breathlessly.

Killian nods with an encouraging smile. He tosses his ruined coat in the trash and borrows a white doctor's coat from one of the hospital staff after making a joke about not wanting to frighten the already dazed citizenry. Emma tries to smile, but the brief glimpse of the bloody hole in the back of his shirt reminds her just how serious this all is.

She's got a hell of a lot to sort out, between Regina and Gold, magic and fairytale characters, her long-lost parents and her… what? What is Killian, now? Friend? Boyfriend? ( _True love?_ an unwelcome thought in the back of her mind whispers, but she pushes it quickly aside.) She has no idea. He's just another item on the long list of things she needs to wrap her mind around.

Emma pulls Henry a little closer to her side as she walks out the door, Killian just behind them. Henry is the one solid, real thing she has right now. Everything else is going to take a little time.

~ ~ ~

Killian squeezes his lips together at the look on Emma's face as they walk toward the center of town. He's seen that dazed, traumatized expression before, on the faces of soldiers after their first time in battle.

This past day has been almost more than she can bear. He feels a pang of regret for suggesting their current course of action, but even if he hadn't her parents would have sought her out quickly. At least they would if they are anything like the people the storybooks portray them as. Better to get this reunion taken care of quickly so Emma can find a place to rest while she comes to terms with the new landscape of her life.

They find Mary Margaret and David in front of Granny's, reuniting with the dwarves, Ruby and Granny.

Killian stands back, watching, while Mary Margaret and David tearfully greet their long-lost daughter and grandson. He can see the stiffness and hesitancy in Emma's stance as her parents embrace her. This is the family she's always dreamed of having, but they've come for her nearly three decades too late. Killian's heart aches at the obvious pain on Emma's face. He hopes that someday soon she can see what a gift this family is—he'd have given anything to have Liam, Bae, and Milah back, if it was possible. But he knows that if they somehow did magically return to him, the centuries of pain and change between them would make the reunion every bit as painful and difficult as the one Emma now faces.

He swallows hard, wishing there was something he could do to make this easier.

His thoughts are jarred when Leroy raises his voice, "Then why are we still here?"

David turns to the dwarf. "That, my friend, is an excellent question."

Killian steps closer to the group as others among the dwarves add their own questions about the curse and the magic, and Mother Superior joins in, adding to the confusion about what it all means. One of the dwarves finally suggests confronting Regina about the magic.

Killian raises his voice. "It wasn't the queen who brought the magic. It was the Dark One—Gold. But I promise you, he'll not be harming any of you with his powers. I've seen to it myself."

Leroy advances toward him. "Well excuse me, Father Jones, but just who are you to make promises about the Dark One? Were you some kind of wizard or something? Because otherwise you're in no position to promise anything."

The eyes of the entire gathering were on Killian—including Emma's—and he could feel their distrust and confusion radiating out toward him. "No. I was no wizard."

"Just who were you, Father Jones?" Mother Superior asks, a suspicious frown on her face.

Killian clenches his teeth. This is a topic he hoped to discuss in private with Emma before announcing it publicly. 

Before he makes up his mind as to what to say, Emma speaks up. "He was a naval officer. He already told me."

Leroy throws his hands up in the air. "Seriously? What power does a naval officer have over the Dark One?"

"I've had dealings with him in the past," says Killian sharply, "and I managed to acquire some powerful leverage against him. Leverage that I prefer to keep to myself in such a public setting. But believe me when I say that he won't use his powers to harm us. Not today."

The group still seems skeptical—not that he can blame them. He wouldn't believe either if he traded places with them.

"If he says he has leverage against Gold, I trust him," says Emma, and all eyes in the group shift to look at her. "You all should, too."

Killian's heart swells. Is it possible that her feelings for him somehow survived the chaos of the past two days? Will she truly give him a second chance?

She speaks up again. "But I think Gold does owe us some answers. We need to talk to him."

When the murmurs from the dwarves rise in agreement, Killian frowns. He strides toward Emma, past her frowning parents. "Can I have a word—just for a moment?"

Emma's lips are tight, but she nods in agreement. Killian catches David's concerned glare out of the corner of his eye as he leads Emma a few paces away from the group, but his heart swells at the sound of Henry's voice. "It's okay, Grandpa. Killian's one of the good guys."

With that endorsement ringing in his ears, he steps close to Emma, holding her gaze and speaking in a low voice. "Emma, do you trust me?"

She hesitates for a moment, but then nods. "Yeah. I do."

"So please trust me when I say that Gold is in no position to act against my wishes. When I tell him not to harm anyone, he has no choice but to obey."

"How?" The exhaustion and confusion on her face is obvious.

"I'll explain everything when we have a more private moment. I promise. I owe it to you, after the way I deceived you this past week. And I want to tell you the full truth about who I was, too. I wasn't lying when I said I was a naval officer, but that's only a small part of my history. The full story is much more complicated. I want to tell you everything, Emma," he says, hoping she can hear his sincerity. This is the only way to fully repent of his lies this past week. He needs to tell her every dark and despicable detail of his past, and let her decide for herself whether or not a man like him deserves a second chance. He won't deceive her again. "But now is neither the time nor the place. You've had a hell of a day. I can see how exhausted you are. You don't have to keep going. Not right now. Take a few hours to rest. The answers to your questions can wait."

Emma's eyes waiver, and she sways on her feet a little. "They all want the answers now."

"You don't have to put them first. Not after what you've been through today," he answers. "Take a few hours. Go into the diner. See if Granny will get you some strong coffee and a good meal. Once you've taken care of yourself for a few hours, then you'll be in the position to start taking care of others, again. You need this, Emma."

She nods slowly, but her eyes flick to her nearby parents. "But if I take a few hours, they'll want to be there. I'm not ready for this, Killian."

He smiles gently. "I don't think this is the sort of thing anyone could ever be truly ready for."

Emma sighs. "You've got that right." She meets his eyes imploringly. "You'll stay with me?"

"If you want." His heart is in his throat, knowing that though her parents stand not six feet away, _he's_ the one she wants by her side. "At some point I do need to change out of this shirt," he teases, "but I'll stay if you want me to."

"I do." She nods.

"Okay."

They step back to her parents, but before they can announce their new plan, the sound of angry shouting fills the air and they see an agitated mob a few blocks away. Dr. Hopper dashes toward them, asking for help. The mob is on their way to kill Regina.

As much as Killian wants to tell them all to leave Emma in peace and let her rest, he sees the fear on Henry's face as much as she does. There's only one thing to do. Time to save the queen.

tbc


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for your continued support! I know that Killian's cursed identity as a priest has faded into the background the past few chapters, but it's going to become important again over the next few. I'm having fun exploring themes of redemption and responsibility and community obligations, etc. by way of his position in Storybrooke. I hope you all like it. Disclaimer: a few lines of dialog were borrowed from the show; none of it belongs to me, etc.

Emma arrives at Regina's place just in time to stop Whale from throttling her. (What the hell did she do to him—other than the obvious? But there's no time for those kinds of questions right now.)

Killian holds Whale back while Emma, Mary Margaret and David (her _parents_ —God, she really hasn't wrapped her mind around that one yet) talk down the crowd. The difference in David's character is already so evident than any remaining scraps of doubt Emma had are stripped away. He's a different man—not the indecisive bum who hurt her friend, but a real Prince Charming.

As she watches him, Emma clamps her lips together and tries not to look at Killian. He says he wants to tell her everything—but what will _everything_ entail? If David is so different now that he's "awake," exactly how much has Killian been hiding? Emma's both desperate to know and terrified of how far removed he might be from the man she thought she was falling for. Is he still really _her_ Killian at all? She knows he'll put his life on the line for her and Henry—he already has. But is that enough? She feels queasy, but she needs to keep going. She can figure out the answers to these complicated questions later.

When Mary Margaret finally suggests that Regina be locked up for her own good, Emma is quick to agree. She pulls Killian aside. "Can you take Henry back to Granny's and wait for us there? I don't want him to see us locking her up. He still loves her—he shouldn't have to see that."

Killian nods. "I'll take him. Are you alright?" His eyes are warm with concern and understanding. 

She swallows and shakes her head slightly. "Not really. But I'll manage. Just… keep him safe, okay?"

"I will. I promise."

She knows in her gut that she can trust him. That she can count on him. But can she still fall for him?

She shakes her head as he leads Henry away. She really doesn't want to have to think about this right now. Not when she's dealing with a town full of fairytale characters, magic, and her long-lost parents. It's too much.

It takes them a few minutes to walk Regina to the sheriff's station, and they remain tight-lipped and silent the whole way.

After David locks Regina inside her cell, he asks, "If the curse is broken, why didn't we go back?"

"Because there's nothing to go back to," retorts Regina. "That land is gone."

Emma can see the fear and disbelief in Mary Margaret's eyes as she looks away from Regina and says, "We should get back to Henry."

Emma nods and turns to follow them out, when Regina's voice rings out behind them. "Don't trust that pirate with my son again, Miss Swan. I won't tolerate it."

Emma spins on her heels to face the cell. "I don't think you're in a position to make any demands."

Regina looks angry for a moment, and then a sly smile curves on her face. "You don't know who he really is, do you?"

"I know enough," replies Emma, her stomach churning. She knows there's more to Killian's story than what he's told her, but she's not about to trust Regina's version.

"I don't think so." Regina shakes her head. "All he cares about is himself. He'll do anything to get what he wants—he'll tell any lie, turn on any ally, stab any back—anything to achieve his ends. You can't trust him. Don't let him convince you otherwise."

Emma shakes her head and turns back to David and Mary Margaret. "Let's go." She strides past them and back out onto the street heading toward Granny's. 

She tries to wear a stoic face—to pretend that Regina's words haven't rattled her. But they have.

Killian just told her himself that he has a complicated past. Was he really some sort of pirate? Or does Regina just hold a grudge against him, like she does against half the town, and wants to undermine Emma's faith?

She knows that she believes him when he talks to her, but she also knows that her emotions have clouded her super-power in the past, and they might be doing the same again.

As they walk, David moves alongside her. "Are you sure Father Jones is the best person to be leaving Henry with? I hesitate to trust Regina's word, but when it benefits her she has been known to tell the truth."

"Henry's been hanging out with Killian after school a few days a week for more than a month," Emma replies. Of course they're going to have this conversation right now. This day really can't get any worse.

"But that was before he got his memories back." David pauses. "Unless he's had them all along?"

"No—he didn't get them back until a week ago."

David frowns. "How did he get his memories back a week before the rest of us?"

Emma squeezes her eyes shut and takes a deep breath. "They came back when we kissed."

David freezes in his tracks, a shocked look on his face. "You kissed a priest?"

Emma stops walking and groans. Yep. This is going just as well as she expected.

"Episcopal priests aren't celibate, dear," says Mary Margaret, sparing Emma for a moment longer. "They're allowed to date."

David blinks a few times, looking just as uncomfortable as Emma feels. "Oh. So… you're dating a priest? Pirate? Whatever he is?"

Emma rolls her eyes. She spent her whole life wishing she had parents, so naturally the moment she gets some they start interrogating her about her love life. God this is surreal. "Yes, I guess. And he's a priest here, and he told me he was a naval officer in… you know… and he says there's more to it than that but he hasn't exactly had time to explain it all to me."

David nods thoughtfully. This time Mary Margaret speaks up. "I thought you got in a fight and broke up?"

Emma rubs her face with her hands wishing like hell that Killian had never talked her into this "family time," because she is so not ready for this. "I don't know. Yes, we fought, but it was about… this. All this. He tried to tell me the truth about the curse and your past lives and everything, and I wasn't ready to believe him so I got angry and ran away. But now… you know… I don't know quite where we stand." She swallows, thinking over the past few perilous hours. How can she be so absolutely certain that Killian would do anything to help her and Henry but also completely unsure if he's the man she thought he was at the same time? What the hell has her life turned into?

"If his memories came back when you kissed, what does that mean?" David asks.

"I have no clue. Do I look like a magic curse expert to you?" Emma snaps.

Mary Margaret steps forward, and she seems to know that Emma is nearly at the end of her rope. Mary Margaret holds up a hand. "David, some of these questions can wait until we talk to Gold. He'll understand all this better than any of us." She turns to Emma. "I'm sorry. It's just… we just… You're my daughter. And I want to talk to you."

Emma feels a hard knot growing in her throat. In spite of her reservations she wishes Killian was still here to help deflect their attention. Mary Margaret babbles for a few moments about how they used to talk as friends before finally saying, "The point is, we did not know we were mother and daughter, and now we do. And, so… please let's talk."

Though the pain and need in Mary Margaret's voice are evident, Emma's own pain and confusion are almost overwhelming. But she wants to try. "Okay. What do you want to talk about?"

Mary Margaret says that though they are finally together, "I can't help but think you're not happy about it."

Emma shrinks back a little. It's not unhappiness—it's—it's—she doesn't know. But it's huge and it's crushing her down and she doesn't know how to deal with it right now. "Oh—I am. But… see… Here's the thing. No matter what the circumstances, for twenty-eight years I only knew one thing. That my parents sent me away."

The sad smile on Mary Margaret's face makes Emma's heart ache, but her words strike like a slap in the face. "We did it to give you your best chance."

It's an exact echo of what she'd told Henry. But had this crazy, cursed place really been his best chance? Might they both have been better off if she'd had the guts to keep him? "You did that for everyone. Because that's who you are. Leaders. Heroes. Princes and princesses. And that's great, and amazing and wonderful. But it doesn't change the fact that for my entire life, I've been alone." Until Storybrooke—a voice in the back of her head reminds her. Until she found her son and her best friend and Killian…

"But if we hadn't sent you away, you'd have been cursed, too," replies Mary Margaret, unshed tears standing in her eyes.

"But we would have been together," Emma whispers, thinking as much about Henry as she is about her parents. They could have been together. All this time. If she'd just had the courage. She shakes her head. "Which curse is worse?"

Emma swallows hard. This conversation is going from bad to worse, fast. She's exhausted and hungry and tired and she can't deal with this right now. "Come on, let's just… let's go get Henry."

She turns and leads the way to the diner, knowing that her parents will follow.

~ ~ ~

Killian watches as Henry wolfs down a cheeseburger and fries. He'd be lying if he said he'd rather be here than with Emma, right now, but it means something that after all this she still trusts him with her son. It means quite a lot.

He guzzles down several glasses of sweet tea and manages to eat a ham sandwich. He needs to get his strength back. His wound may be healed but the shock and blood loss have left him weaker and more drained than he cares to admit.

"Did Mr. Gold really shoot you?" Henry asks in between bites.

Killian arches an eyebrow. "I certainly didn't do this to myself."

"But why'd he shoot you?" Henry asks before popping another fry in his mouth.

Killian takes a deep breath. "He thought that injuring me would be a way to convince your mum to do something he very much wanted her to do." Namely, True Love's Kiss. Killian still hasn't figured out how he managed to convince both Gold and August that he's Emma's True Love, when Emma clearly doesn't seem to share that opinion. (August—damn. He'll have to check on the man sometime soon, to see if he's alright now that the curse is broken.)

Henry frowns. "That doesn't make any sense."

"I concur," Killian agrees before taking another few gulps of tea.

Henry is still frowning. "It had to be more than that. Did Rumplestiltskin have something against you?"

Killian clenches his teeth. He knew questions like these were inevitable, but he'd much prefer to have this discussion with Emma, first. (Not that he could have said "no" to Emma when she asked him to watch Henry.) "Our paths did cross many years ago, and some old grudges were developed."

Henry's frown deepens. "Wait a minute—did you know all this before he shot you, or did you still think you were just a priest?"

Well. It seemed there was no getting out of it, now. "I confess my memories returned a bit earlier than for the rest of town."

"How much earlier?" Henry's eyes are wide.

"A bit under a week."

"How did _that_ happen?" Henry's jaw hangs slack as he stares at Killian.

Killian squirms uncomfortably. Though he wants to be honest, he doesn't think the lad will much care for tales of how he made out with his mum. "I think I'll let your mum answer that particular question," he finally says.

"How come?"

"Just—trust me on this one, lad. Your mum knows the answer. Let her explain."

Henry taps the table with a thoughtful look on his face. Killian can sense another question coming, and sure enough, it's a big one. "So who were you back in the Enchanted Forest?"

"That's something I'd like to discuss with your mum before sharing it with anyone else," Killian replies, all the while knowing that Henry won't be satisfied with that answer.

"You can tell me anything you'll tell her. I promise to keep it a secret until you have a chance to talk to her." Henry grins. "I told her I thought you must have been a sailor, because you love ships so much."

Killian sighs, resigning himself to his fate. "You're a clever lad."

Henry's eyebrows shoot up. "So I was right?"

Now that he's had a taste the boy won't be satisfied until he has the full truth—Killian can see it in his eyes. If he wants to be a part of this little family someday (God, he wants it. He wants it so bad he can taste it.) he needs to be as honest with Henry as he plans on being with Emma. He nods. "Alright. I'll tell you. As long as you promise not to tell your mum. I want to be the one who tells her the full truth. Okay?"

"I promise," says Henry solemnly.

Killian takes another sip of his tea and licks his lips. "You see—in my younger years I did serve as a naval officer in a royal fleet."

"I knew it!" exclaims Henry.

"Not so fast," Killian raises a finger. "You see, I discovered through tragic circumstances that the king I served was a black-hearted tyrant with no true honor. So I cast off my uniform and vowed to oppose him. I became a pirate." He lets out a relieved breath and feels a weight lift from his shoulders. As the good book says, the truth really will set you free.

Henry's jaw drops and his eyes slowly turn to stare at Killian's prosthetic hook. Though the modern hook looks radically different from the model Killian wore during his swashbuckling years, it's enough. He can see the wheels spinning in Henry's head.

Henry meets his eyes and drops his voice to a dramatic whisper. " _Captain Hook?_ My mom is dating Captain Hook?"

"How'd you know we were dating?" Killian frowns.

"I'm eleven—not stupid," Henry replies. "And you didn't deny it."

Killian slumps back in the booth bench and sighs. "I won't deny the truth."

Henry's eyes light up. "Awesome. I won’t tell my mom. You're secret is safe with me. How come you aren't in my book?"

Killian shrugs and shakes his head. "I've no clue. I can only imagine that whoever composed that tome of yours was unaware that I'd be caught up in the curse. I'd spent several centuries trapped in Neverland, and had only returned to the Enchanted Forest less than a month before the curse hit. Not many knew of my return."

"Neverland? Really? With Peter Pan?"

Killian shakes his head sharply. "Don't believe the movies or books, Henry. Pan is a demon incarnate—the darkest, most ruthless villain I've ever encountered. Don't pin your dreams on him. The last thing you want is Peter Pan taking an interest in your life. He took an interest in mine, once, and I suffered for it." The chances of Pan finding them here are slim, but Killian won't take any risks of Henry getting caught up in the false romance of Neverland.

Henry's voice drops to a whisper again. "Did he really cut off your hand?"

Killian swallows hard and looks down at his artificial limb resting on the table. "No. Someone else had that privilege. Look—I don't think we should be having this discussion without—"

The door to the diner opens and Emma strides in, her parents in tow. Thank heaven. 

Killian stands to greet them. He sees the strain on Emma's face. This reunion is hard on her. But he hopes that being back with Henry will help.

"Here—sit and have some food. You need your strength," he says ushering her into the booth across from Henry. He leans closer as she moves to slide onto the bench and murmurs, "Do you need me to stay? I'd like to go change out of these bloody clothes, but if this is a little too much for you, I can stay."

Emma meets his eyes for a moment, indecision flashing in her gaze, before she shakes her head. "No. I'll—I'll be okay. Go get cleaned up. Can you meet us back here in an hour? I want you there when we go talk to Gold."

He squeezes his lips together and nods. He wishes she'd wait until tomorrow to worry about Gold, but she needs whatever control she can get right now, so he'll let her have it. "I'll be back in an hour. I promise."

As she sits down her fingers slide down his arms and give his hand a brief squeeze before she drops it and turns to Henry. His heart leaps—but he won't let himself read too much into it. Not yet.

He nods at David and Mary Margaret, who stand eyeing him suspiciously (not that he can blame them) and repeats his promise to meet them in an hour for their confrontation with Gold.

He heads out, glancing over his shoulder at Emma, who slumps with obvious exhaustion in her booth. Henry smiles and gives him a cheerful wave goodbye, and it's that happy sight that lingers with him as he walks home. She has Henry to bolster her. She'll be alright.

~ ~ ~ 

Emma manages to eat a sandwich, though she can barely taste it. Nothing feels real or right. Nothing except Henry. He smiles at her and chatters away happily, hitting David and Mary Margaret with a barrage of questions about their past lives. Emma listens quietly as they share snippets of their rather epic story with him, and those hints and details sink into her gut deeper than any of the other revelations of the day.

This is her history. This is her family. It's all real.

Less than a half an hour has passed when she finishes her food, and David catches her eye. "If you're done, maybe we could head over to Gold's shop a bit early."

Emma frowns. "I thought we were waiting for Killian."

"I'm still not sure we can trust him—especially if he really was a pirate," replies David.

Mary Margaret nods. "When we disbanded Regina's and King Henry's navies, a lot of their old officers turned to piracy. I'm worried he might be one of them. That would explain how Regina knows him."

"He never worked for Regina—trust me," says Henry suddenly.

Emma turns to him, raising her eyebrows. "Oh yeah? How do you know? Did you finally find him in your book?"

"Nope." Henry shakes his head. "He told me who he was. He's not in the book—at least not in _my_ book, but you'd all totally recognize his name."

"So who is he?" asks Mary Margaret.

"He wants to tell Mom in person—he made me promise not to tell before then."

Emma sighs. While she respects Killian's desire to own up to the truth in person, it would have been a lot easier to pacify David and Mary Margaret if Henry could just tell them. But, for now, she'll respect his wishes. "Fine. But you're sure he's not secretly working for Regina?"

Henry nods. "Positive."

"That's good enough for me," says Emma, pulling out her phone. She knows in her gut that Killian won't betray her. There's plenty of other things she still doesn't have a handle on, but on that that point she's sure. "I'll call Killian and see if he's ready." But the screen on her phone won't light up. "Damn. I'm out of power. I forgot to plug it in last night. Can I borrow yours?" She glances at David.

He squeezes his lips together and meets Mary Margaret's gaze before looking back at Emma. "You know—whether he's working for Regina or not, he has some sort of strange hold over Gold right now. I think it might be best if we talk to Gold without Killian in the way to filter his comments. I just want to get all sides of this story so we can make an accurate judgment about what's really going on."

Emma sighs. She doesn't have the energy to fight about this right now. Besides, she's been in the business of dealing with shady characters for long enough to know that you get a clearer picture of the full story if you separate them before talking to them. She might not like David's distrust of Killian, but she totally gets where he's coming from. "Fine. Henry—do you mind staying with Ruby for a little while?"

"Do I have to?"

She nods. "I don't trust Gold within a hundred feet of you right now, kid."

Ruby gladly agrees to watch him, and Emma leaves the diner with David and Mary Margaret (she still can't bring herself to think of them as her _parents_ ). As they walk she slips her hand into her jacket pocket. Killian's insignia is still there. She never took it out after last night.

She rubs her fingers over the smooth metal of the medallion. He gave this to her after his memories already returned. This is something special. She knows in her gut that he wouldn't have told her the story about this belonging to his brother if it wasn't true. Somehow she just _knows_ that this is something from the other world. Something that the curse let him keep. And he gave it to her for luck.

Her heart calms as she runs her fingers over the tough leather and warm metal. This is something real—something that bridges both worlds and ties them together. One of the last things from Killian's past—and he cares enough about her to want her to have it.

She squeezes the insignia, feeling more certain than ever. David may not trust Killian yet, but she does. 

Gold is as cagey as ever when they confront him about the curse and ask him why he brought magic back. Before they can ask him any more probing questions the ground shakes like a small earthquake, and power lines up and down the street start sparking.

"What the hell was that?" Asks Emma, her thoughts immediately going to Henry.

A strange, low wail echoes through the street and the wind kicks up, blowing trash and debris past the shop.

"That," says Gold, "is my gift to you. That is going to take care of Regina."

More sparks fly from the street lights, and another wail breaks the air, chilling Emma to the bone. She and Regina have a hell of a lot to work out, but she had no intention of _killing_ the woman. She's still Henry's mom. He loves her. For Emma, that's more than enough reason to want to keep her safe.

When Mary Margaret calls out that they need to go, Emma doesn't argue. But she does look back at Gold. "We're not done," she growls.

"Oh, I know," Gold replies. "You still owe me a favor."

As much as she hates it, he's right. And she has a feeling that favors meant a hell of a lot more in the Enchanted Forest than they do here. But that's something to worry about another time. Right now they need to get to Regina.

~ ~ ~

A shower and a set of fresh clothes leave Killian feeling like a new man.

He can't stop thinking about the way Emma squeezed his hand while seeking reassurance. She still feels something for him. He hasn't ruined things completely. 

As he stares at himself in the mirror he makes a silent vow—from this day forward he will be nothing but completely honest with her. He'll earn her trust, and prove himself worthy of it.

Though it's been barely over half an hour since he left Emma at Granny's, he can't wait to go back. He needs to see her again. He needs to believe that this is all actually happening.

Just over a block from home he sees a familiar figure headed his way. It is his church administrator, Doris. Her short auburn ponytail is disheveled, and her face is red and swollen from crying.

"Father Jones," she half-sobs.

He blinks. "Doris? What in the world—?"

"I was a prostitute." Her voice quavers, and she looks as lost as he's ever seen anyone. "I worked at a brothel that catered to the queen's black guard. I took work there after my husband left me because I was barren." She raises a hand to her mouth and sobs again. "I can't go back to that. Please—tell me I don't have to go back?"

Killian steps forward and opens his arms to his friend. He holds her gently as she sobs into his shoulder.

He's still got plenty of time before Emma is expecting him. 

He may have been a pirate, once, but here he is a priest, and one of his flock needs him. This is who he is, now, curse or no curse.

"Hush, darling," he whispers to the sobbing woman. "You'll never go back. If we were going to be sent back it would've happened as soon as the curse was broken. I promise you—no one will ever make you go back, least of all me."

She pulls back to wipe her eyes and sniffles. "I hate who I was. I hate the life I had. What'll happen when people recognize me? When they know what I was? No one will ever trust me again."

Killian grips her shoulders and meets her eyes. "Doris—listen to me. That's not going to happen. I won't let it happen. This is a new world we're living in. One where woman aren't driven into that kind of life out of desperation. And we're not going back." He shakes his head. "All of us are sinners—and all of us have darkness inside of us, whether from our old lives or from the new. No one here has any right to judge you."

She shakes her head and steps further away from him. "That's easy for you to say. You're one of the best men I know. You don't have the kind of past that I do."

Killian swallows hard. He's made confessions hundreds of times over in 12 step meetings. It seems that in this new world he has a whole new set of confessions to divulge, and the magnitude of it all makes his shoulders droop under the weight. "Doris—I was a bad man. A villain."

Her eyes grow a little wider with disbelief, and shakes her head just a fraction.

"It's true," he continues. "I lied. I stole. I hurt people. I killed men. I lived with another man's wife for eight years, and when he killed her in front of me I vowed to live a life dedicated to vengeance. And I kept that vow."

Doris's jaw now hangs open a little.

Killian nods. "As I said, all of us are sinners. All of us have darkness inside. I'm no exception. But in this world, we have the chance to make ourselves anew, and we have God's hand to guide us."

Doris bites her bottom lip and nods. "Thank you. Thank you, Father. I really needed to hear that, tonight."

"Then thank our God for letting our paths cross."

They walk together back toward Doris's neighborhood and pass by the church. The parking lot is crowded.

Killian takes a deep breath. He should have expected this. He should have known that his parishioners would turn to him for guidance. He's been so caught up in his own problems—in his own desire to make amends with Emma—that he's neglected to think about all the people who will turn to him in this time of need.

Gritting his teeth, he heads for the church, Doris following along behind.

This is his life. If he wants to be the man that Emma believes him to be, his place is here.

As soon as he steps inside people crowd around him, barraging him with questions.

He calls for them to quiet down and leads them all to the small rec center attached to the church. Once gathered in a more orderly fashion he tries to answer what questions he can for the whole group.

A few minutes into the impromptu meeting the ground shakes beneath them, and the lights flicker.

"Now what's happening?" one man cries out.

"I don't know," says Killian. "All of you—stay here, and remain calm. Share your stories with each other. We can all work together to get through this time of confusion if we trust each other. I'll go make some phone calls to see if I can find out what's going on."

The room fills with more nervous buzzing. Killian steps out to his office and pulls out his phone. Emma's phone goes right to voicemail, and Mary Margaret doesn't answer.

Killian grits his teeth. He doesn't have David's number yet. If any of them are in trouble, he doesn't know what he'll do.

Finally he dials Granny's. Ruby answers.

"I don't know what's going on," she says when he asks. "Emma and David and Snow left Henry with me a little while ago, and then things started going crazy. Sparks are flying from power lines and streetlights and the wind is insane. Do you think it's some sort of spell?"

"I don't know," Killian admits. "Under the circumstances we can't rule it out. I'm going to go find Emma."

"Last time I caught sight of her they looked like they were headed toward the sheriff's station," replies Ruby.

"Okay. I'll try there first."

Before leaving he asks Doris and two of the church Deacons to take over the group—to help calm people down and make sure they get home safe. Then he sets off at a jog toward the sheriff's station, cursing under his breath that he left his car out in the woods by the well.

The wind whips and howls and he can swear that he hears some kind of unnatural wailing underneath it all. Something is very wrong, and he intends to be at Emma's side when they face it.

~ ~ ~

Emma started her day killing a dragon so in a strange sort of way it seems fitting that she's ending it fighting off a freaky creature straight out of Harry Potter.

Mary Margaret's impromptu blow torch catches her off guard—Snow White apparently has guts in a fight. But Regina's explanation of the wraith's mission rattles her.

Henry would never forgive her if she let some nasty beast suck out his mom's soul. And Emma can't help but feel that no matter what Regina's done, not even she deserves that fate. They have to find a way to stop it.

When Regina says she has a solution at City Hall, Emma quickly falls in step behind her. She wishes she had a working phone to call Killian. She could really use his experience here. But she'll have to make do with Regina, Mary Margaret and David. They all seem to think that Regina's plan is the way to go, so Emma will go for it.

Anything to get the creature out of Storybrooke so that things can settle back down into whatever new normal they might be facing.

~ ~ ~

The sheriff's station is empty when Killian arrives, but there are clear signs of a serious struggle. No blood or bodies, thank God, so he has high hopes that everyone got out unscathed, but he doubts this conflict is over.

When he emerges from the sheriff's office into the whipping wind, he sees Ruby and Henry approaching. "What are you doing? It's not safe out here."

"It's not safe anywhere," replies Ruby, clutching Henry's shoulders.

"We need to find my moms," says the boy, his face scrunched in concern. "We need to help them."

Killian doesn't like the boy being out and about, but he admires his courage.

"They headed that way," Ruby says, pointing toward City Hall.

"How do you know?" asks Killian.

"I have some skills with tracking. It's an Enchanted Forest thing."

Killian nods. "Very well, then. Lead the way." He turns his gaze on Henry. "But if we run into any trouble, you need to stay behind us. Let us handle it. Is that clear?"

Henry nods.

Ruby walks ahead of them, lifting her head and taking deep breaths. She seems to be listening and smelling more than she's actually looking, and Killian wonders just who she used to be.

But as they near City Hall they don't need her tracking skills anymore. Even he can hear loud screeching wails and see what looks like flames dancing inside.

"Stay with Ruby!" he shouts at Henry and dashes ahead.

He sees the lights go dark just before he reaches the front door and barges through. He hears noise from the direction of the courtroom and bursts in to see David pinned to the wall by some magical vines, Regina staring up at him, a murderous look in her eyes.

"Let him go!" Killian shouts.

Regina scowls at him and he finds himself flying across the room, grunting as he hits the wall. 

"You'll have you turn, pirate," Regina snarls.

"Mom?" Henry's quavering voice breaks through the tension, and Killian turns to see him and Ruby standing in the doorway.

Immediately Regina's expression softens and she walks toward the boy. "Henry—what are you doing here?"

Killian's heart pounds. He doesn't think Regina will hurt her own son, but where is Emma?

"What are you doing?" Henry asks.

Regina draws near to her son and crouches down. "It's okay. You're safe now." The vines release David and he collapses, coughing, to the floor. Ruby runs to help him.

"Where's my mom? Where's…" Henry shifts back from Regina, visibly upset.

Regina's next words are enough to stop Killian's heart. "They're gone. They fell through a portal. They're… Henry, I'm sorry."

Killian hasn't felt this much sudden pain since Cora's fingers were wrapped around his heart, squeezing. He struggles for breath. No. No!

"You really are the Evil Queen," he hears Henry declare. "I don't want to see you again."

"Don't say that," Regina replies in a broken voice. "I love you."

"Then prove it," says Henry. "Get Emma and Mary Margaret back. Until then leave me—leave everyone—alone."

Killian pushes off from the wall and takes a few wobbling steps toward Regina and the boy. He can feel his hand shaking. All he wants is to feel his fingers around her throat—to see his hook piercing her heart.

"Where will you go?" Regina asks, oblivious to everything but her son.

"With me," says David, stepping forward. 

Regina moves to stand between Henry and David, but Killian manages to speak. "Let him go with his grandfather, Your Majesty. I'd like a word with you in private." His voice is twisted and gravelly with emotion. He sees Henry flinch at the sound of it, and sees a spark of fear in Regina's eyes. Good. She should be afraid.

David walks forward and rests his hand on Henry's shoulder, leading him away from Regina, but Henry's eyes turn to Killian. "Don't kill her. She needs to get Emma and Mary Margaret back. Please, Killian. Promise me you won't kill her."

Killian closes his eyes and clenches his teeth, swaying on his feet. All the rage and hatred he thought he'd left behind swell and churn in his chest. He'd found a reason to live—a reason to hope—a reason to be a better man. And now she's gone. Torn away from him by Regina's bitter jealousy.

But how can he ignore the pleas of Emma's son?

_God above—help me_ , he prays silently.

"Please, Killian," Henry says again.

Killian clenches his fist and shakes his head. He doesn't dare open his eyes. If he looks at Regina again, he might not be able to hold himself back.

"Jones." David's rough voice cuts through the haze of pain clouding Killian's mind.

He opens his eyes to meet David's gaze, and he can see his own pain echoed there. 

"I know exactly how you're feeling," David says, his voice thick with emotion. "I just found the love of my life and my only child again after twenty-eight years, only to have them ripped away from me." His voice breaks and he shakes his head. "But I have to believe that we'll find a way to get them back. We have to hold onto hope. We have to have faith."

David's words strike Killian like a tiny flicker of light in the midst of his darkness. He'd gone without that light for centuries—living only for the sake of vengeance and the eventual release of death. But now—even with Emma ripped away to another realm—there is still hope. There is still a chance for something better.

Killian drops his eyes to Henry's face, still marred by his own pain.

There is his hope.

Emma's son needs him. He needs to see people he trusts working to bring his mother home to him.

Killian needs to go on living—to go on _hoping_ —for Henry's sake, as much as for his own. He feels a tear rolling down his cheek as he nods. "I promise, Henry. I won't kill her. I'm sorry. I… I'm sorry."

"Come with us," says Henry in a soft voice. 

Killian nods. He turns his back on Regina and follows Henry and David out of City Hall and into their new, uncertain future.

 

tbc


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now that Killian and Emma have been separated, I'm changing up the format just a tad. You'll see. And thanks for your ongoing support—this is turning into more of a novel than I ever expected, but all my enthusiastic readers keep me going strong! Disclaimer: a few lines of dialog were borrowed from the show; none of it belongs to me, etc.

Back at Emma's loft, Killian starts a kettle while David tries to offer comforting words to Henry. The empty tone in David's voice doesn't sound very comforting, but Killian knows he wouldn't be able to manage anything better. He's afraid to speak—if he does, he might break down.

His hand shakes a little as he scoops hot cocoa mix into a mug for Henry and adds a dash of cinnamon. He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. He made cocoa just like this for Emma one week ago—the night they first kissed.

He knows it has only been a week, but so much has happened since that it feels like ages have passed.

It feels like he's loved her his whole life.

Is she really gone? Will he ever see her again?

His throat is tight as he hands the cocoa to Henry, and the boy thanks him and sips it halfheartedly. Killian can feel David's eyes boring into him. Clearly he hasn't won the trust of the good prince, yet. 

Killian sighs and turns back to the kettle to make himself a cup of tea. He doesn't feel up to fighting for anyone's trust right now, though, at the back of his mind, he knows he'll have to in order to work with David to get Emma and Mary Margaret back.

A few mostly quiet minutes later, David convinces Henry to turn in for the night, though it's still early. Killian could use some sleep, too, but he knows his day is far from over.

Before Henry heads to bed he stops and meets Killian's eyes. "I need to ask you something."

The boy's voice is as serious as Killian has ever heard it. He nods. "Of course, lad. Anything."

Henry holds his gaze and asks, "Are you in love with my mom?"

Killian can feel tears welling in his eyes and he has to swallow a hard knot in his throat before he can answer. "Yes. I am."

For the first time since arriving at the loft, Henry smiles. He reaches out to grip Killian's hand. "Then you'll find her. I know you will. That's how all the stories end—True Love always wins."

Killian wishes he could feel as confident as Henry. He has no idea if what he and Emma have is anything like the True Love of the storybook. But he won't burst the boy's bubble. He nods. "I hope you're right, Henry. I truly do. And I promise, I will do everything in my power to find your mum and bring her home."

Henry throws his arms around Killian's waist, hugging tight. Killian returns the hug, closing his eyes. A very long time ago he thought he could make a lost little boy into his son, but failed. Perhaps this is his second chance.

He wishes Henry a goodnight and walks to the counter while David tucks him in. Killian sips his tea slowly, trying to steady himself for all the work he has yet to do.

After David draws the curtains around the bed area, he gestures for Killian to follow him upstairs, no doubt for a more private conversation. Killian doesn't fail to notice David grabbing two cups and a bottle of whiskey on the way up, and finds himself longing to forgo his resolutions and to just take the damn drink. He could certainly use the relief right now.

The sparsely decorated room at the top of the stairs is small—one queen bed, a wardrobe, a nightstand, a vanity, an armchair, and a padded bench at the foot of the bed. From the tumble of boots next to the wardrobe, Killian knows without a doubt that this is Emma's room. He sits on the bench by the bed and he can smell the scent of her on the linens. It makes his heart tighten in his chest, and he clutches harder at the cup of tea he carried up with him.

Sure enough, David settles into the armchair, sets the cups down on the tiny table next to it, and starts pouring.

Time to be a man of conviction. Killian takes a deep breath and holds up a hand. "None for me, mate."

David looks startled. "Really?"

Killian needs to lay it all on the table to get this man to trust him. "I'm an alcoholic. Eight years sober."

David leaves his own drink on the table and settles back to stare at Killian. "Do you mean the Storybrooke you, or the Enchanted Forest you?"

"Does it really matter?"

"I think it does," says David.

"So which you tucked the lad into bed?" Killian asks. "David Nolan, or Prince Charming?"

"I—" David hesitates. "I don't know. It's hard to know which is which right now."

"Exactly my point." Killian takes a sip of his tea. "But that won't stop you from wondering who I am, will it?"

"No," David shakes his head. "It won't. Emma trusted you, and so does Henry. But I never really knew Father Jones, and I certainly don't know whoever it is you really are, so how about you fill me in and then we can decide what to do next?"

Killian nods. "That's fair. Though I must warn you—don't base your initial judgments of me off of Disney films or storybooks. They're not very accurate."

David's eyes narrow. "So you are someone I've heard of."

Killian sets down his cup and leans forward. "More or less. My name was and is Killian Jones. But in the Enchanted Forest—among other realms—I was known by a more colorful moniker." He raises his prosthetic arm. "Hook. Captain Hook."

David's jaw drops and he shakes his head. "You've got to be kidding me."

"Says Prince Charming, husband of Snow White."

David leans back and runs a hand through his hair. "Fine. You're right—I need get used to throwing my expectations out the door from now on. I can't let my knowledge of stories from this world color my acceptance of the actual truth. Which is that Captain Hook is… " He takes a deep breath. "… in love with my daughter."

Killian nods. "I am." Apparently it gets easier to admit each time. David frowns and looks down. Killian sighs. "Not who you would have picked for her, I'm sure."

"None of this is what I would have picked for her," replies David softly. He raises his eyes again to meet Killian's gaze. "Does she love you, too?"

Killian squeezes his lips together, remembering the way she clutched at his hair and pushed her body against his that day in his office—remembering the look in her eyes after he was shot—remembering the smile on her face when she saw him again in the hospital, and the way her fingers gripped his hand in the diner. 

He promised to come back and help her. But he hadn't made it in time. He clenches his fist and closes his eyes for a moment before answering. "I don't know. I… things between us were still new, and with the curse in the way, it complicated things. Emma isn't the type to let her guard down easily. I didn't expect her to feel the same as me this quickly. I thought we'd have time." His emotions almost get the best of him, and the final words come out in a tight rasp.

"So did I," David whispers.

Killian breaths deep for a moment, fighting to maintain control of his emotions. The impulse to storm over to Regina's house and throttle her with one of her scarves is still strong. Or he could make Gold do it…

He squeezes his eyes closed and shakes his head, then looks up at David. "Tell me what happened. Tell me everything."

He doesn't ask many questions as David recites what happened—the wraith's appearance, the scramble to find a way to deal with it, and Regina's proposed solution.

"A hat? A magical hat?" Killian says when David reaches that point in the story.

"Yeah. Do you know something about it?" David looks suddenly hopeful, and Killian feels his own heart leaping. Perhaps the solution to retrieving Emma is simpler than they imagined.

"That I do. I had a long talk with a man named Jefferson just this morning regarding the use of his magical hat. In another life he was known as the Mad Hatter. He used his hat to open portals to other worlds."

David scoots to the edge of his seat, looking jumpy. "We have to find him. He needs to fix the hat."

"Fix it?" Killian's heart sinks. "What happened to it?"

"I…" David hesitates. "I tried to follow Snow and Emma through the portal. But it closed just as I was jumping after them. I landed on the hat and crushed it. It's in pretty rough shape."

Killian freezes. He remembers seeing David carry a tattered lump of fabric back to the loft, but he hadn't paid it much heed. "Bloody hell. You may have ruined our only chance to get them back!" he snaps before he can stop himself.

"I didn't do it on purpose," David retorts, scowling. "And even if we get it working again, there's no guarantee that they're still alive to be found. Regina said that the Enchanted Forest was obliterated by the curse. They fell through a portal into an empty void. They might already be dead." His voice breaks and he looks away.

Killian frowns. On this point, at least, he can offer some hope. "Regina lied, mate. I know for a fact that at least part of the Enchanted Forest survived the curse. Perhaps all of it."

"How do you know?" David asks, his voice weak and desperate. 

"Just before the curse was cast I got caught up in a power struggle between Regina and another witch, by the name of Cora. Regina wanted Cora dead, Cora wanted Regina dead, and they both threatened my life and used me as a pawn to help them achieve their ends. At the end, as the curse was being cast, I was in the company of Cora. She cast a powerful spell to shield herself and a significant span of the Enchanted Forest from the effects of the curse, trapping everyone inside in a frozen state until the curse was broken. I was to be trapped along with her, but at the last moment I said something to rouse the witch's ire and she cast me out of the shield and into the path of the oncoming curse. But I have every confidence that the portion of land within the shield still remains intact, and the rest of Enchanted Forest might, as well, though in a more disrupted state of being." Though Cora's last-minute betrayal had burned him with anger and panic at the time, Killian is now grateful for it. Whether or not it was Regina's plan, the life she gave him here has done more to heal his old wounds than anything from his previous centuries of life ever did. In spite of her more recent actions, he almost feels as if he owes her a debt of gratitude.

David nods slowly. "Thank God. So they had someplace to land."

"They did," Killian replies.

David sighs. "Snow knows how to survive in the Enchanted Forest. She'll keep them both alive. Now it's up to us to find them."

"So it seems."

David gives him a piercing look. "First, I have to ask—you said not to judge based on the stories of your character here, but they all have one thing in common. You're—"

"The villain," Killian says, cutting David off. "And I did get myself mixed up with a pair of dark witches, didn't I? So now you're wondering if I can be trusted."

"The thought had crossed my mind," David says, before taking a sip of his drink. "I need to know exactly who I'm dealing with before I'm prepared to place any part of my family's safety in your hands."

It's no more than what Killian expected. He's already been planning out what to say in anticipation of his confession to Emma. A confession that he hopes is only delayed—not prevented. He takes a deep breath. "One thing I've learned from this world is that the wisest and most fruitful course of action is to admit to my wrongs, to strive to overcome them, and, when possible, to make amends for any past injuries. So I'm going to be perfectly honest with you, David. Yes. I was a pirate. I was a villain. Not the same villain you know from your stories, but a villain nonetheless." 

David nods but remains silent, letting Killian speak. It takes several minutes to get through his whole story, from a spare account of his disastrous first voyage to Neverland with his brother onward through all the choices that led him down his dark path. David's biggest reaction comes when he confessed that his lost love was Rumplestiltskin's wife, from a time before he became the Dark One.

"Seriously? You stayed alive in Neverland for more than two centuries for a chance to take revenge on Gold for killing the woman who left him to be with you? You honestly think this is going to make me happy about your relationship with my daughter?"

Killian shakes his head. "Not at all. I expect you're considerably unhappy about it, at the moment. But I said I'd be honest with you, and this is the truth. If we're to be allies, you need to hear me out."

David folds his arms across his chest and leans back in his chair. "Fine. Keep going."

Killian plunges forward, briefly relating his time with Baelfire, his bargain with Pan to help round up errant boys for Pan's gang in exchange for eventual freedom, and his return to the Enchanted forest. David shakes his head with a disgusted look on his face as Killian tells of his dealings with Regina and Cora. "Then," Killian concludes, "the curse struck. And I've been Father Killian Jones, parish priest of Storybrooke, ever since."

David finishes his drink and holds Killian's gaze. "So. I respect the whole honorable beginnings thing, but it's been a few centuries since you turned your back on that. Do you really think the whole priest thing somehow makes up for everything you just told me?"

"No. I don't," says Killian honestly. "When I was cursed I had no memory of my past wrongs, so I could do nothing to make amends for them. But I remember now. And, thanks to the curse, I'm a changed man."

"I'm just supposed to take that on faith?" David raises his eyebrows skeptically.

"Let my actions speak for me. I've had my memories back for nearly a week. Have I slaughtered Gold in that time? Have I returned to piracy and started pillaging the town?"

"Not that I've noticed," David admits.

Killian nods. "Exactly. I confess I was tempted to enter Gold's house in the night and put an end to him, once and for. But I chose not to. Because I've committed myself to following a different path. I answer to a higher power, now. But I have done wrong. I won't hide it from you." This is the moment Killian's been waiting for—the moment where he confesses not the wrongs of another lifetime, but those he perpetrated just this week, when he should have known better. "Instead of telling your daughter the truth as soon as I remembered it, I chose to shelter myself from any potential backlash by pretending to be no more than the cursed man she'd grown to know. I pursued her affections under false pretences, and that was a grave mistake. If I'd had the guts to be honest with her, many of the mishaps of this past day might have been prevented. But I was selfish, and frightened, and I acted the coward. I promise you, I won't do it again."

David studies his face intently. "Do you really believe all that higher power stuff?"

Oddly enough, that's the one question that Killian has never had to ask himself since regaining his memories, though he's questioned everything else. "I do."

"How can you believe in God given the life you lived? It doesn't make any sense." David shakes his head.

"God doesn't need to make sense to us mortals. His power and understanding is greater than we can ever comprehend. My faith is all that kept me strong today, while facing obstacles and foes greater than any I've seen since leaving the Enchanted Forest. I won't turn my back on it. Not now. Not ever." He takes a deep breath, pondering how to explain his faith to David. Finally he settles on one of his favorite verses of scripture. "My Savior Jesus Christ once spoke to his disciples, telling them: Peace I leave with you; my peace I give to you. I do not give to you as the world gives. Do not let your hearts be troubled and do not be afraid." Killian savors the words on his tongue. They fill his heart with the familiar peace and reassurance that he's learned to rely on during his time in this realm. He needs to be reminded of them just as much as he needs to share them.

"Regina didn't know what a precious gift she was giving me when she granted me this life," Killian says softly. "During all my centuries of life before coming here, my heart was always troubled. I was never at peace. When my memories of that life first returned, the old anger and hatred flooded me, and the temptation to complete my quest for revenge has been… very strong. But every time I come close to giving in, that trouble—that darkness—floods back into my heart. And I can't live like that anymore. Not now that I know a better way. Every time I've pulled back from acting on those dark impulses—every time I've turned my thoughts and my heart back to the path God would have me choose, I feel a renewed sense of peace and purpose." Even as he speaks the peace flows through him, comforting him, reassuring him once again that he's on the right path. He meets David's eyes. "I'm still afraid. It still hurts like hell that Emma and Mary Margaret are gone, and that Henry's lost both his mothers today," his throat tightens as he speaks, "but I have faith that our cause is right and true, and that if we hold onto hope, we'll see them again."

Unshed tears stand in David's eyes. "Faith and hope won't be enough to bring them back."

"I know that," replies Killian. "But here's a little secret—God likes to help those who help themselves." Killian winks, wearing a bittersweet smile. "You and I are men of action. Believe me when I say that I won't stop working until we find a way to bring them home. 

David swallows hard. "Okay. I believe you. I don't know why—but I do."

Killian extends his hand. "So we're in this together?"

David grips his hand and shakes it firmly. "Looks like it."

Killian's heart already feels lighter knowing that he'll have an ally like David on his side.  
"Good. I already have a few ideas as to finding Jefferson. We can begin looking for him in the morning. In the meantime, we need to see to the needs of the town. I have a feeling Regina won't be tending to any of her civic duties, and with no sheriff either someone will have to step up. I suspect many of the people will be looking to you for leadership. You were their prince, after all."

David's face is tight, but he nods. "I was."

Together they hash out a plan to set up a center to meet physical needs at city hall, and a secondary center to meet emotional and spiritual needs at Killian's church. They spend the next hour making calls to the friends and townspeople that they will need to help.

Once everything is arranged the dull ache in Killian's chest has eased somewhat. He still misses Emma—he fears for her safety and yearns to see her again. But he knows that he's doing what needs to be done, both to bring her back, and to look after her son and the town in the meantime.

"I'll head out, now," says Killian, leading the way downstairs. "I'll meet you and Henry at city hall at seven in the morning to get things going. As for tonight, I think I need to pay a visit to Gold before calling it a day."

David's eyes widen a little. "Gold? I should go with you."

"No. You should stay with your grandson. I'll get what we need out of Gold." A part of Killian's mind thinks that he should still be livid at Gold—filled with anger for all that he's done to the people that Killian loves. But, though he feels more than a little bitter that Gold managed to summon up a wraith, he can't feel that kind of passionate fury any more. He hasn't forgiven the man, but now he sees him more as a difficult tool that he needs to learn to master then as a nemesis.

"What is it with you and Gold? What kind of control do you have over him?" David asks.

"Not enough," Killian says softly, thinking of the wraith. He sighs. "The truth of the matter is that during the course of my stay in Neverland I discovered that the Dark One derives his power from a certain object, and that if anyone manages to gain control of that object, then they also gain control of the Dark One. He becomes their slave. I managed to come into possession of that object during the week after my memories returned, and now that magic is here in this land, I have power over the Dark One."

"Why didn't you say that earlier?" David demands. "He can send us after Emma and Mary Margaret. He can solve everything."

"It's not that easy, mate." Killian shakes his head. "Gold helped orchestrate this curse in the first place, because he believes that his son is alive in this world as this point in time. If he could just wave his hands and open a portal, don't you think that would have been an easier way to find the lad?"

David clenches his jaw and nods. "Sorry. You're right."

"That's not to say he won't be of help. He might be the key to fixing that hat of yours. Let me take it tonight and set him to work on it."

David fetches the hat from the table where he set it down. "I still don't trust him. Not after what he did with that wraith. Are you sure we should leave this with him?"

Killian grips the hat. "He managed to call that wraith because the commands I gave him weren't explicit enough. I'll be sure to make my commands perfectly clear this time. No loopholes for him to exploit."

"Okay." David nods. "What is this object? Where have you got it hidden?"

Killian shakes his head. "If this object fell into the wrong hands they could wreck havoc in this town. The fewer who know what it is or where, the better. It's safer this way."

David looks uncertain, but nods again anyway, stepping aside to let Killian walk to the door. "Good luck."

The night is brisk, and the streets are littered with debris stirred up by the wraith attack. There are even a few car crashes in the center of town, but, thanks to calls he just made with David, emergency workers are already on the scene tending to the injured and cleaning things up. Killian nods and waves to greet those he knows, hoping that his presence will help reassure them. Everyone needs all the reassurance they can get, right now.

It doesn't take him long to get to Gold's house. He isn't surprised by the scowl on Gold's face when he answers the door and lets him in.

"Come to give me some more commands, master?" Gold sneers as Killian walks into the front room.

Belle walks in from the hallway, wearing a new dress, her hair tidied. At least Gold is taken good care of the traumatized woman.

"Milady," Killian says, nodding. "I'm glad to see you looking better. I apologize for what happened in the forest. I didn't intend for things to get so heated. "

She hangs back by the door. "I remember you, now. You came to my cell and lied to me. You would have killed me, if you hadn't been stopped."

"I am sorry for my past behavior toward you," says Killian. The girl can have no idea how dark Gold really is, or she never would have been so loyal to him in the first place. But that was no excuse for what he did to her. She was defenseless, and yes, he would have killed her. But that was the past—a past he is determined to put behind him. "I hope to make amends to you for my actions. I'm a changed man."

"Not likely," Gold mutters under his breath.

"How do I know you're telling the truth?" Belle asks.

"Because he's still alive," replies Killian, pointing at his old enemy. "If I hadn't changed, I'd have killed him long before your memories returned. Isn't that right, Gold? Tell her the truth, now. Didn't I have the opportunity to carry out my vengeance before your power returned?"

Gold's scowl deepens. "He speaks the truth."

Belle shakes her head. "I don't like this. What are doing to him? How are you controlling him?"

Killian glances at Gold again. "Tell her."

Killian waits, swaying a little on his heels and clutching the tattered hat in his hands, as Gold gets through a tense, brief explanation of his dagger.

Belle looks wide-eyed and stunned. When Gold finishes his explanation he hangs his head, looking more than a little humiliated. Belle steps toward him, raising a hand to his face, and he flinches away.

Killian stares at the floor, feeling as if he's spying on a scene far too intimate and emotion-laden for his eyes.

A moment later Belle approaches him. "Killian—if you truly are a changed man, will you prove it to me? Will you give me the dagger?"

She holds his gaze for a few seconds, and he can see the faith and sincerity written on her face. He glances toward Gold, who still hangs his head. Killian looks back at Belle. This is a test. A moment of importance. What would God have him do, here? He glances skyward, thinking a swift, silent prayer.

He takes a deep breath. "I want to," he says. "I want to believe that you are the influence for good that Gold needs in his life right now. I hope to give you the dagger someday. But I can't, today. Not yet. Not after what he did with the wraith."

Belle frowns, turning her head toward Gold. "Wraith? What? I don't understand?"

"That's what all the chaos in town was earlier this evening. The winds—the destruction—the earthquakes. He summoned a wraith to devour Regina's soul."

Belle's eyes go wide. "No. Is this true?"

"Tell her," Killian commands.

After a swift venomous glance at Killian, Gold raises his eyes to Belle. "Yes. It is."

"You lied to me. You promised not to kill her."

"No, I kept my word. I will not kill her."

Belle shakes her head, and Killian can see her heartache in her eyes—can hear it in her voice. "No. You toy with words. Like you do people." She steps a little closer to her lover, tears standing in her eyes. "You're still a man who makes wrong choices. I thought you'd changed."

Gold's face is tight with frustration. "What, in the half-day you've known me?"

Her face breaks, and few soft sounds of anguish escape her lips. She turns and strides from the room. Gold and Killian follow.

"Belle, I—I'm sorry," calls Gold. 

She reaches the front door and pulls it open.

"Belle, I'm sorry. I am," he calls again.

She looks back at him for a moment, but then steps outside, slamming the door behind her. Gold races to the door.

"Let her go," Killian calls, and Gold freezes in his tracks, magically arrested in his progress.

Gold spins, his face furious. "I suppose it gives you great pleasure to do this to me, doesn't it?"

"I thought it would," Killian says softly. He knows the pain on Belle's face all too well. He'd felt the self-same way too many times in the past. "I really did. But I'm not pleased. Nothing about this is pleasant. It's sad. Sad that after all this time you still don't understand that you can't betray and manipulate the people you love without losing their trust."

Gold lunges toward him with a roar of outrage, but once again he's stopped short but a magical barrier.

Killian shakes his head. "It's not too late, Gold. You can still prove yourself to her. And I can tell you how."

"Nothing you have to say means anything to me," Gold sneers.

"Well, I'm afraid you have no choice but to listen, so…" Killian shrugs.

Gold frowns and steps back, his fists clenched at his sides.

"For starters," says Killian, "no more loopholes. No more getting around commands or promises with sneaky tricks. Follow the spirit of your agreements—not just the letter."

Gold looks away. Is that guilt on his face? Killian hopes so. If he can feel guilt, it means he still has a conscience in there somewhere.

"Next, I forbid you to conduct any acts of magic without my permission or command, unless needed in a moment of emergency to save a life or prevent serious injury. Is that clear?"

"Perfectly." Gold nods.

"Good. Now—do you know what this is?" He holds up Jefferson's hat.

Gold raises his eyebrows and nods. "I've used Jefferson's services on several occasions in the past, though the hat has seen better days."

"Can you repair it?" Killian asks. "Can you make it fit to open another portal to the Enchanted Forest?"

"I don't know. Jefferson obtained it from a wizard from another realm. I never had a chance to study it." Gold meets Killian's eyes with a narrowed gaze. "Why do you ask?"

The obviously exploitative look on his face reignites Killian's anger from earlier in the evening. "This is how Regina disposed of the wraith—she opened a portal to the Enchanted Forest and tricked the wraith into it. But…" He hates to expose his pain to Gold, but he has no choice. "Emma and Mary Margaret were pulled through as well."

Gold's face cracks into a smile and he starts to laugh.

Killian can't stop himself—his fist is already swinging before his rational thoughts kick in. His fist connects with Gold's face with a satisfying thud that sends the smaller man stumbling backward.

It takes a few deep breaths for Killian to regain his composure. Gold shakes his head and wipes his thumb over the spot of blood welling at the corner of his mouth. "It was worth it," he mutters.

Killian squeezes his eyes shut. All his pity—all his resolutions to stay on a righteous path—will go for naught if he stays in Gold's company for much longer. Opening his eyes he tosses the hat to the nearest table. "Dark One, I command thee," he barks, pointing at the hat, "do all in your power to repair this hat. Do all you can to restore it to its previous state, and make it capable of opening a safe portal to the Enchanted Forest. Start tonight."

"As you wish," Gold spits out with a glare. 

Killian stalks past him and out into the night, his heart pounding with fury. 

The cold night air begins to bring him back to his right mind as he walks. After a few minutes he sees a lone figure up ahead standing under a streetlight, her arms wrapped around herself, shivering in the chill breeze. It is Belle.

She looks up as he approaches. Her face is red from crying, but her tears have dried.

"I'm sorry for that, milady," he says. "I wish things could have gone differently."

"So do I," she replies.

"Do you need someplace to stay tonight?" he asks. He won't leave the poor woman to wander cold and alone in the night, no matter how bad her taste in men is.

She shakes her head. "I don't know. This place is so strange. So different from anything I know." Her brow furrows and she looks at him imploringly. "Do you think he can still change? Do you think there's any chance that the good man hidden inside of him will ever come out?"

Killian sighs. He wishes he could give her more hope, but after the conversation he just had, he can't. "I truly don't know. I hope that someday I can give you that dagger with full faith that he'll refrain from hurting others. But I can't yet. I don't know if I'll ever be able to."

She swallows and looks away, nodding.

"Belle—let me get you a room in the local inn. The innkeeper and her granddaughter are good women. You don't have to trust me, but you can trust them. They'll look after you until you decide what to do next."

Belle nods. "Alright."

They don't speak as he leads her to Granny's. There's nothing he can say that could give her comfort.

Granny gladly takes her in after Killian briefly explains who she is. After Granny leads her away to her room, Killian turns to Ruby. "Sorry to bother—but could you give me ride? I left my car out in the woods earlier. Could you help me pick it up?"

She smiles and nods. "Sure."

As they drive, Ruby asks how David and Henry are doing.

"As well as can be expected." Killian sinks back into the passenger seat, feeling more exhausted than he has in years.

"And how about you? How you doing?"

"I've been better."

"You'll get them back. You and David. I know you will," says Ruby.

Killian swallows a dry knot in his throat. "I hope you're right." The topic is too painful to deal with anymore today, so he changes subjects. "David tells me that back in the Enchanted Forest you were one of Mary Margaret's closest and most loyal friends. Thank you for helping us. We'll need you again in the morning. I expect there'll be more chaos to deal with."

"Don't worry. You can count on me," Ruby replies. After a moment she asks. "So… who were you? In the other world?"

Killian supposes he'd better get used to answering this question. He looks at her in the dim cab of the car and sighs. "Captain Hook."

Her high peal of laughter brings a much-needed smile to his face. "So, I take it you're not afraid of sharing your car with a pirate?"

She shrugs, still smiling. "As long as you're not afraid of sharing it with a werewolf."

Killian has no adequate response to that, other than to join her in her new peal of laughter.

By the time they get to his car he feels better than he has all night. If he can still laugh, he can still hope. And he'll need all the hope he can get to sustain him through the next few days.

 

tbc


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading. As usual - disclaimer: a few lines of dialog were borrowed from the show; none of it belongs to me, etc.

Killian pulls the razor across his face for a few last passes to make sure the last of the stubble is cleared away. He rinses his face with warm water and pats it dry before taking a long look at himself in the mirror. 

He feels as if he's finally shed the last traces of his old pirate-persona. The town doesn't need a pirate right now—it needs a priest. And so does he. It's the only way he'll keep the old darkness at bay long enough to get Emma back.

Taking a deep breath to brace himself for the long day of work ahead, he heads to his bedroom to finish dressing.

Things are already bustling at city hall when he arrives just before seven. Citizens have started posting notices about looking for lost loved ones on the announcement board, and the nuns are setting up a pavilion to distribute emergency supplies to those who lost power during the wraith attack.

Ruby and the nuns are running the show for now, and Ruby greets him with a broad grin and a nod. He joins in, doing what he can to keep things running smoothly.

David arrives a little late, with Henry tagging along behind. Not that Killian can blame the man for sleeping in a little—not after the trauma he endured last night. 

As people begin turning to David with their questions and concerns, David seems a little dazed. Killian steps up and helps direct the flow of curious and frightened citizens. David gives him a grateful smile, and after a few minutes he seems to get his bearings and starts directing the action with more confidence. Killian gets Henry set helping the nuns at the supply station and then helps David keep things going for the next hour until the dwarves arrive, bombastically declaring the bad news: anyone who crosses the town line is returned to their cursed state, losing their memories of their true selves permanently.

Killian grits his teeth at the chaos the news stirs up in the crowd. He and David do their best to calm things down, and David announces a town hall meeting in two hours to talk over the issues in a public forum. After the announcement Killian pulls David aside. "I think it's time to get the spiritual and emotional help center going over at my church. Do you think you can handle things here?"

David nods, though his eyes look a little lost. "Yeah. I've got it covered."

Killian gathers Dr. Hopper, two of the nuns and two of his Deacons and heads over to the church, leaving another of his Deacons to set up signs around city hall announcing the location of the new help center.

Doris already has a few volunteers there getting things set up, and people in need of guidance have already started turning up. Time to work.

The next hour flies by as Killian directs anxious newcomers to join the various counseling and support groups forming in various locations around the church. More than a few people pull him into emotionally fraught private conferences, confessing dark deeds from one or the other of their sets of memories, and fretting about what the people they care about will think of them now. Killian does the best to console and bolster all of them, but he knows this will take time for everyone to adjust to. Weeks, if not months. One thing he hears again and again is concern that somehow they'll be forced to return to the Enchanted Forest. Though a few souls seem in favor of a return, most are ardently opposed to it. On that point, at least, he can reassure them. None of them will be returning to the Enchanted Forest. Not now—perhaps not ever.

Though that second possibility still pains his heart. Later today he'll have to check in on Gold's progress. If he can't fix the hat, they need to start searching for an alternative path to rescuing Emma and her mother.

The most heart wrenching moment of the morning comes when some of Killian's regular parishioners come in—the Bowens, Steve and Jill, with their daughter Paige. While Jill stands in a corner with Paige, speaking softly with the obviously distraught girl, Steve pulls Killian aside.

"I don't know what to do, Father," says Steve, a broken look on his face. "Paige wasn't our child in the Enchanted Forest. We couldn't have any children of our own. She says that she lived alone with her papa. We all remember being a family—we remember adopting her as a baby. She grew up with us! We love her! But now to know that she has another father out there somewhere—" Steve chokes on his emotions and shakes his head. "What do we do? I—I mean—custody laws won't have any idea what to do with situations like ours. I don't want to lose my daughter." Unshed tears stand in the man's eyes.

Killian reaches out to grip Steve's shoulder. "This curse had done a number on all of us. This is going to take time and patience. If Paige's other father is out there, looking for her, they need to be reunited. It's the right thing to do."

Steve swallows and nods, hanging his head. 

"But that doesn't mean you won't be in her life," continues Killian. "These lives here in Storybrooke—they were—they _are_ —as real as anything that came before. I'm certain that Paige loves you as much now as she did yesterday. You and her other father will have to learn to work together—to find a way to all be a family together. This is the burden we all bear now. But I and the rest of the community will be here to help. I promise."

Steve nods again. "Thank you, Father. It's just so hard."

"I know. I know." He helps arrange a private session for the Bowens with Dr. Hopper.

Not much later his phone rings. It's David.

"Hey," says David, "I think I have a lead on Jefferson. One of the paramedics who went out to handle the car crashes last night treated a man meeting Jefferson's description. He refused to give his name and only took treatment at the scene—he wouldn't come to the hospital. The paramedic said he left on foot, walking toward the big hill behind the sheriff's station."

Killian nods. If Gold can fix the hat, then Jefferson can make it work. "I have an idea where he might be."

"Good. I'm on my way to you right now. I want to find him now, before he has a chance to hide away somewhere. We need him on our side."

They don't have much more time before the town hall meeting, but Killian agrees to join him. Winning over Jefferson is definitely a priority. He could be the key to getting Emma and her mother home safely.

Killian leaves Doris and his Deacons in charge and hops into David's truck as soon as he pulls up. "Where's Henry?"

"I left him with Ruby. Now where do you think we can find Jefferson?"

"Emma told me he lives in a big mansion on the hill. I'm a runner, and I believe I've run by the place hundreds of times. I'll guide you there."

A few minutes later they pull up in front the large mansion set considerably back from the main road. From the outside it's impossible to know if Jefferson is home.

Killian and David run up the steps to the door and pound on it for more than a minute. Killian steps back and shouts. "Jefferson—it's Killian! Let me in!"

Finally they hear the sound of footsteps coming toward the door.

Jefferson looks pale and frazzled—more than a little worse for the wear. "What do you want, Killian? I helped you break your damn curse, wasn't that enough?"

Killian shakes his head. "I'm sorry to trouble you. And I am indeed grateful for your assistance yesterday. It was invaluable. But I'm afraid we do have need of your assistance. Regina used your hat to open a portal last night and two people we care about very much were pulled through. We need your help to get them back."

Jefferson's eyes drop and he shakes his head. "I'm through helping." He shifts as if to close the door and Killian raises an arm to stop it.

"Hey—the people we're trying to save are Emma and Mary Margaret. After the way you kidnapped and terrorized them, I'd say you owe them one. And I'll make sure you pay this debt."

"He did _what_?" David steps forward, his eyes wide.

"Not now, mate," Killian snaps. They need Jefferson, and beating him up again is a last resort.

After staring at them for a moment, Jefferson nods. "Fine." He steps back from the door and lets them in. They follow him to his front room where he flops listlessly on a sofa. "So, explain exactly what happened."

David tersely relates the events of the previous evening and Jefferson nods, a detached look in his eyes until the end.

"You smashed my hat?" he asks, sounding offended.

"I didn't do it on purpose!" David says.

Jefferson shakes his head. "If it's as damaged as you say, it won't work anymore. The structural integrity of the hat is key to the magic working."

"Can you fix it?" David demands.

Jefferson shakes his head. "I'm just a traveler—not a wizard."

"We took it to the Dark One. Do you think he'll be able to repair it?" Killian asks.

"You did the right thing," replies Jefferson. "If anyone can fix it, it's him."

"I was hoping we wouldn't have to rely on him," David says with a sigh.

"It seems we have no choice." Killian turns back to Jefferson. "If he succeeds in fixing it, will you help us open a portal?"

Jefferson folds his arms across his chest and looks away. "I'll help. But don't expect miracles. The portals created by my hat have strict rules and limitations. This is no easy solution to your problem."

"We'll worry about the limitations later—as long as we can count on you," said David, nodding and rising to his feet.

But Killian wasn't done yet. "Jefferson—what about your daughter? Why aren't you out there looking for her?"

Jefferson shakes his head, a dead look in his eyes.

Killian frowns and steps toward the man. "Jefferson—what's wrong? She's out there, somewhere, waiting for you."

"No she's not," Jefferson says in a low voice, his eyes moist.

"Why not?"

Jefferson looks down at his hands. "Because I left her. I promised I'd come back, and I didn't. I couldn't. But she doesn't know that. All she knows is that I left." He shakes his head. "She probably hates me."

Killian's throat feels tight. "You're wrong."

"How do you know?"

"Because my pa left me, too. When I was seven years old."

Jefferson lifts his eyes to meet Killian's gaze, his mouth hanging open a little.

Killian nods. "Aye. He was a fugitive, and left me aboard a ship to flee for his own life. I was alone for a time, until my older brother tracked me down." He pauses and swallows hard. "You think the lass will hate you, but for years after my pa left, I woke up every morning still hoping to see his face again. Still hoping he'd come back. It wasn't until I was almost a man before I started hating him. If your little girl is out there, she still wants you. You have to go to her now, before it's too late."

Jefferson's eyes shine with emotion. "But she has another family, here. What if she wants them more than she wants me?"

A sudden realization sinks into Killian's chest and he clenches his teeth. _Oh, hell_. He takes a deep breath. "Is your daughter named Paige?"

Jefferson's eyes get a little wider. "That's what her family calls her, here. But before she died, her mother named her Grace."

His words confirm Killian's suspicion and his shoulders sag. How many more families will face dilemmas like this over the next few days? Damn Regina for doing this to them. None of them deserved it. No one would ever deserve this. "I know her," says Killian softly. "She and her parents attend my church. They were there not a half-hour ago, looking for counsel. Paige—Grace—already told them about you. She's looking for you. They don't want to lose her, but they know she needs to find her real papa, if she can. They might still be there. Come with me now. We can start the process of reconciliation."

Jefferson looks terrified. He shakes his head. "I can't. I—I—I don't know how to do this. What if she doesn't want me?"

"She does want you, and you _can_ do this. She's your daughter."

Jefferson doesn't manage to shake the terrified expression on his face, but he does nod. "Okay. I'll come."

All three men squeeze back into David's truck and make the short drive to the church. Killian notices David giving him a few odd looks, but he lets it go. Dave will accept him for all his is or not—that's up to the prince.

At the church, Killian leads Jefferson into the rec center where most of the people have gathered. Sure enough, the Bowens are still sitting in a corner with Dr. Hopper. Killian sees the way Jefferson's breath catches in his throat when he sees his daughter. Killian imagines he'll have a similar look on his own face when—if— _when_ —he finally sees Emma again.

Gently gripping Jefferson's arm, Killian leads him across the room to where the Bowens sit. Paige— _Grace_ —is the first to notice them. Her eyes flick upward and her freeze in wide-eyed surprise for just a moment before her face lights up in a bright grin. "Papa!" she cries, leaping to her feet and running toward them.

Jefferson collapses to his knees, tears rolling down his cheeks, as they wrap their arms around each other.

Killian's heart is tight in his chest as the Bowens, equally teary-eyed, walk toward them, hands clasped, with Dr. Hopper following close behind.

"Remember," says Killian, his voice thick, "this isn't an ending for any of you. It's just a beginning of something new. Dr. Hopper can help you through this, and so can I."

The Bowens nod as Jefferson looks up at them with questioning eyes. Killian watches as they all return to their corner with Dr. Hopper to begin the difficult process of sorting out their complicated new family.

This won't be easy for any of them—but it will be worth it.

He looks around for David, and sees him at the entrance with a wild-eyed Ruby grabbing his shoulders and shaking him.

Killian jogs over to join them as quickly as he can, just in time to hear Ruby saying, "She showed up at your town meeting. The one that you missed. Her magic's back. Everyone's panicking. They want to leave town. They're going to lose everything."

David, a shocked look on his face, nods. "Okay. I have to get Henry back first."

"No," Ruby insists. "Regina won't hurt him—but this town is about to come apart. You've got to do something."

Killian swallows hard at the thought of Henry back in Regina's hands, but he knows sense when he hears it. "She's right. Get to the town line. Stop anyone who tries to leave. Ruby—round up everyone at town hall who's going into a panic and tell them to come here. I'll try to talk some sense into them."

Ruby nods and takes off at a run. David holds his gaze for a few moments and then nods as well before jogging to his truck.

Killian spends the next few minutes circulating among all those counseling the troubled and frightened citizens, quietly filling them in on the new developments and getting them onboard with calming the populace. Soon enough more people start to pour into the church and Killian and the other counselors are all swept up in the task of soothing their fears.

But the panic is almost too much. With each wave of new arrivals the conversations get louder and more agitated. Some people are openly weeping—others are loudly calling for either another mob attack on Regina, or a coordinated mass exodus out of the town.

Killian shakes his head. This is all getting out of hand.

As the loud conversations start to turn into shouts he walks to where a microphone is plugged into the church's audio system and turns it on. "Attention everyone. Attention! I know you are very concerned about recent events, so I will be addressing all of you in the chapel in ten minutes. Please make your way to the pews in an orderly fashion so we can get this meeting started. Thank you!" He feels like adding a few curses to the terse speech, but resists the temptation. He needs to be an authority figure right now—not another rabble rouser.

He spends a few minutes helping to usher the noisy crowd into the chapel pews, and then steps out to his office for a moment to collect himself. He closes his eyes and offers a quiet prayer for guidance before taking a deep breath and heading back into the chapel.

He walks up to the pulpit and stands, waiting for the crowd to quiet down. His gut stirs nervously. This is the first time he's "preached" since regaining his old memories. Though years of practice have accustomed him to this kind of thing in his Storybrooke memories, an informal shout at his crew was much more his style back in his native land, with formal speeches being rare. Yet here he stands, both sets of memories vivid and clear in his mind. Just as two sets of memories live in the mind of everyone in the crowd. No wonder they are so agitated.

Finally the noise begins to subside, and Killian opens his mouth to speak. "You're frightened. You're angry. You're confused. You've lost loved ones to new families, or gained loved ones that you are now afraid to lose. You miss your past lives, or you are ashamed of your past lives, and in either case you are terrified about what everyone thinks of you now that we all know the truth." He pauses, looking around the crowd, meeting as many eyes as he can. They are nearly silent now, staring up at him for guidance. 

He didn't ask to be a leader in this world. He never sought to be a leader of anything more than his small crew. But he's here, now. This is the lot he's drawn. God help him.

"The truth is, you are not alone," he says firmly. "All of us are angry. All of us are frightened. All of us have lost people. All of us are confused. Even me. We all have two lives worth of memories jostling in our heads, and none of us know how to reconcile them. And I don't blame you if some of you think you'd be better off crossing that town line and solving the problem in a permanent, irreversible way. But you're wrong!" He points his finger out at them. "This world—this town—is better off with each and every one of you as a part of it. With both of your halves walking around—not just one. It might be overwhelming and terrifying today. But tomorrow will be better. And the next day will be even better than that. Especially if we lean on each other. If we work together to make sense of this new world as a community, united. Let there be no judgments. Don't judge each other for your past in the other world, or for who you became in this one. Because as of today you are neither of those people—and you are both."

He spreads his arms as he looks out over the gathered audience, filling the pews to overflowing. "This is the land of second chances. We are not stuck being who were in the old world, or who Regina made us in this one. Each of us has been given the gift of a second chance. Every. Single. One of us. We all have a chance to take the best parts of both ourselves, and make a fresh start as someone better and fuller and more complete than we ever were before. Don't turn your back on that chance." He pauses for another moment to let his words sink in, his old rhetorical skills returning to him. He raises his voice a little louder. "This is the land of second chances. Let yourself take that chance. Let your neighbor and your neighbor's neighbor have that same chance. No judgments. No pulling each other down or tearing each other apart. Let us lift each other up. Let us be true neighbors and true friends. Let us make this land of second chances the _best chance_ , for all of us." His spirit swells as he speaks. This is everything he wants—not just for them, but for himself.

He wants to find the best version of himself, and that's the man he wants to be for Emma when she returns. Because she _will_ return. He won't let himself doubt it. Not today.

"As long as we stand together as a community, no one can harm us. We won't let them. I promise you that. Now is the time to return to our homes—to open our businesses and schools. To go on living our lives as we strive to be the best versions of ourselves. Don't stand in anyone's way of that. Don't stand in your own way. Now go. Take your second chance. Let's all make the most of it—together."

With a final nod, Killian steps down from the pulpit. Though some faces still look uncertain, more look reassured and hopeful, and a smattering of applause fills the room, growing louder as he walks down the center aisle clasping hands with all the familiar faces he sees, and any others who seem to need it. When he reaches the back of the chapel he raises his eyebrows in surprise at the sight of David and Ruby standing there, watching him.

"I didn't expect to see you so soon," he says.

David smiles. "Things went well at the town line. I gave a speech of my own, not too different from yours. It looks like we're more on the same page about things than I ever thought."

"I'm glad to hear it," replies Killian. "Now—shall we go get Henry?"

"Absolutely," replies David.

They leave Dr. Hopper and Ruby in charge and climb back into the truck together.

"Should we pick up Gold on the way?" David asks. "We could use him as back up. I doubt Regina is ready to stand against him, yet."

Killian ponders the question for a moment. He can't put himself in Regina's shoes—not completely. The closest he came to fatherhood he screwed up in a major way when he wasn't upfront with Bae about their shared history. But he can imagine that she will kill or maim Henry's grandfather and friend in front of the lad—not if she wants to hang onto her relationship with him. He shakes his head. "Not yet. If I have to I can call on him, but I don't want to tip our hand if we don't have to. Let's try reason, first."

David raises his eyebrows but agrees. "Okay. Reason it is."

Killian rolls his eyes a little when David barges through Regina's door without knocking, his hand on the butt of the gun that he wears in a holster at his waist. David clearly has a different definition of "reason" than he does.

"I want to see him," demands David, staring the queen down.

Regina doesn't look defiant. She looks—resigned. 

Perhaps Henry's given her a few things to think about. She quickly calls the boy downstairs.

As Henry walks down the stairs, Regina turns to meet the lad halfway. She meets her son's eyes and speaks to him. "Henry—you're going to go home with David."

Henry looks at David and Killian briefly before turning back to his mother. "Really?"

"Really," replies Regina. "I shouldn't have brought you here. I was… I don't know how to love that well. I wasn't capable of it for a very long time. But I know—I remember—that if you hold onto someone too hard, it doesn't make them love you. I'm sorry that I lied to you. That I made you feel like I don't know who you are. I want you to be here because you want to be here. Not because I forced you, and not because of magic." She lowers her voice, but Killian can just make out her words. "I want to redeem myself."

His heart goes out to her. He may never have cast a realm-ending curse to secure his vengeance, but if he'd had her talent for magic, he knows he would have. 

Regina sends Henry back upstairs to fetch his things, and she turns back to Killian and David. Tears stand in her eyes as she walks toward them. "Take good care of my son," she says to David.

"I will," he replies.

Killian feels an impulse, and steps forward. "May we have a moment, Your Majesty?"

She frowns at him but nods. They step into the living room while David waits in the foyer for Henry.

"What do you want, pirate?" she asks.

Killian sighs and shakes his head. "Thanks to you, that's not who I am any more, and you know it. Why did you do it, Regina? Why did you give me this life? Why make me a temperate priest, of all the things you could have chosen?"

Regina tilts her head away from him, tears still standing in her eyes. She speaks in low tones. "It was my way of thanking you. For helping me deal with my mother. I couldn't give you the vengeance you wanted, so I gave you a life where you would be at peace, instead." She lifts her chin and glares at him. "Although if I'd known this life would put you in a position to fall in love with the savior, I'd have made you a garbage man instead."

Killian grits his teeth, trying to restrain his anger. "This is now a land of second chances, my lady. You say you want redemption? Find it. Make the most of this opportunity. Just as I intend to make the most of the chance for redemption that you were so kind as to give me. Thank you."

She ducks her head. "You're welcome."

He considers his next words carefully for several moments before speaking. "I have a confession to make—one of the compulsions this life as a priest has instilled in me."

"What is it?" Regina asks, frowning.

Killian takes a deep breath. "Cora lives. I struck a deal with her, in Wonderland, to save my own hide. She faked her death. She preserved herself from your curse behind a magical shield in the Enchanted Forest. If all went as she planned, she is still there, just awoken from a 28 year sleep."

Regina's face flickers from a deep scowl to a bitter smile. She shakes her head. "I'd be angry if Cora was in any position to hurt me. But it's not _me_ she'll hurt. You'd better start praying for your precious savior. She won't last long once Cora gets her hands on her."

With those words laying a chill on Killian's heart, Regina strides out of the room to say goodbye to Henry.

Her words continue to haunt him through the rest of the day. Killian leaves Henry in David's care and returns to his duties at the church and city hall, assisting any who still seek reunions with missing loved ones or counseling for their regrets and misgivings. Still, as the day progresses, Killian sees slow but sure signs that life is beginning to return to normal in Storybrooke, with shops reopening up and down Main Street.

He continues his work late into the evening. By the end of the day he's exhausted, but with Regina's words still ringing in his ears he knows he has one more stop to make before he can head home to sleep.

Killian heads to Gold's house.

He is surprised when Belle is the one to open the door to his knock.

He blinks a few times. "Belle—are you alright?"

She nods and leads him into the house and toward the stairs to the basement. "I am. I did a lot of thinking last night and this morning. I heard your speech, at the church. About this being the land of second chances. It made me realize that I needed to come see him again. I've been helping him with his work all afternoon." She grabs Killian's arm before they head down the stairs. "He's exhausted. You need to let him take a break."

Killian nods. Perhaps she's right—at least about the break. He's not certain how he feels about giving Gold another chance.

Down in Gold's workshop the hat sits on a table, looking remarkably better than it did the last time Killian saw it. Gold frowns at him. "Checking in on me?"

"I'm worried about Emma and Mary Margaret. Of course I'm checking in."

Gold has dark circles under his eyes, and he bends low over the table. "As you can see I've finished restoring the structural integrity of the hat. I can sense its magic is still intact, but I haven't managed to reawaken it yet. It'll take some more time."

Killian nods. "Very well. Take a break for the night. Rest up. But I expect you to be back at work no later than eight tomorrow morning. Time is of the essence."

"There is another project I would like to work on," says Gold, through gritted teeth.

Killian raises an eyebrow. Fine. He'll hear the man out. "What is it?"

Gold meets his eyes. "I'd like to work out a way for people to the cross the town line without losing their memories. We might need it, someday."

Killian clenches his hand at his side. Yes—he knows exactly why Gold is eager to pursue this particular project. "You may not know this, but Baelfire did not come to this realm straightaway. He spent a goodly time in Neverland, first."

Gold's eyes go wide, but he doesn't speak.

"Yes, I knew him. Quite well, as a matter of fact." Killian nods his head. "I taught him how to sail. How to navigate by the stars. I came to care for the lad a great deal."

Gold shakes his head. "You lie."

"Who do you think told me about your dagger?" Killian says with a rasp in his voice, all his old anger rising in his throat. "He told me all about your obsession with magic. All about how you abandoned him. Trust me, Gold, finding him in this realm will do you no good. He wants nothing to do with you. He never wants to see you again."

"No! You know nothing!" Gold shouts, knocking several of his magical implements to the floor.

"Stop it!" cries Belle.

Killian backs away. He's letting his old obsession get the best of him. But he needs to protect Bae. This is the only way to make it up to the lad—to give him the freedom he always wanted.

"Killian," she says, "this morning you called this realm the land of second chances. You said that everyone here deserves a second chance without judgment. Do you truly believe that? Or were those just pretty words to calm the people down?"

Killian sucks in a deep breath and shakes his head. He points at Gold. "I'm sorry Belle—but he's already had his second chance. And he used it to call the wraith, which led directly to Emma being sucked out of this realm!"

"And now he's working tirelessly to fix his mistake," counters Belle.

"Only because I ordered him to." Killian shakes his head. Belle needs to wake up and see what kind of man she's gotten herself mixed up with.

"Are you sure?" she asks.

Killian knows in his heart that he's right, but the plea in her voice and eyes is real. She sees something in Gold—something that probably isn't there. But in one regard she's right, and Killian knows it will make him a hypocrite if he denies it. If Killian wants redemption for himself, without the judgment of others—if he's willing to give the same chance to Regina—then he needs to do the same for Gold, as well. 

At least in part.

He takes a deep breath, swallowing his pride. He turns to Gold. "Very well. As soon as you get this hat working again, you may work on your other project. Let that be an incentive to you to work hard and well. Is that understood?"

"Perfectly." Gold nods, still frowning.

Killian sighs, feeling more exhausted than ever. He turns to Belle. "Take care of yourself, lass. I don't want any harm to come to you."

"I will," she replies, standing tall and strong.

Killian heads home unsure if he's made the right choice or not.

That night he sees Emma in his dreams.

She stands in a moonlit forest glade, her arms wrapped around her, staring out at the unfamiliar landscape with worried, exhausted eyes. Three sleeping figures lie on the ground near a banked fire behind her.

Killian frowns at the lines around her eyes and the smudge of dirt on her cheek.

She should be home with her son right now. Not _here_ , wherever here is.

He walks toward her slowly, so as not to startle her, and she turns her head toward him as he approaches, her eyes going wide.

"Killian?" she whispers.

"Aye." He nods. He stops a few paces in front of her. "I'm sorry." He swallows the growing lump in his throat. "I'm sorry I didn't get to you sooner. If I'd been there with you, maybe I could have helped. Maybe this wouldn't have happened. Maybe you'd still be here with us." He shakes his head.

She steps toward him, reaching out her hand. "Killian." Her fingers pass through his arm as if she's a ghost, and she gasps, backing away.

He wakes with a start, his heart pounding in his chest. It felt so real. She seemed so close.

It takes him a long time to fall asleep again.

 

tbc

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, the next chapter will be an Emma chapter. I just really needed to do things in this order for the flow to feel right to me. But you'll see her soon!


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for all the wonderful encouragement you readers are giving me. It means the world. As usual - disclaimer: a few lines of dialog were borrowed from the show; none of it belongs to me, etc.

Emma knows that she broke the big bad curse back in Storybrooke, but ever since arriving in the Enchanted Forest, cursed is the perfect description for how she feels.

First she was buried under a pile of rubble. Then she was unearthed by two very angry women who tied her up and forced her and Mary Margaret to march to a medieval refugee camp and proceeded to knock Mary Margaret out before tossing both of them into a pit. (The fact that those two women turned out to be Sleeping Beauty and Mulan is just the icing on the cake of this insanity. And Emma thought Mr. Gold being the Beast to Belle's Beauty was bad. This is way worse.) Next came meeting Regina's even more evil mother, Cora, and being freed by Mary Margaret's wonderful old friend, Lancelot (because naturally she was once besties with a knight of the round table).

The entire time Emma kept hoping she'd wake up to find it was all a bad dream, but the longer the day dragged on, the more the reality of it sank in.

She should be safe at home with her son. Instead she is trapped in a forsaken fairytale deathtrap.

After their lovely meal of some mythical creature, they'd agreed that the place most likely to hold some magic that could help them return to Storybrooke is the castle of the "Dark One"—Gold's lovely moniker here in his homeland. So, once again in the company of Mulan and the rather angry Aurora, Emma and Mary Margaret spent the rest of the day on the march through ogre-infested forests.

Now, finally camping for the night, Emma feels weary to the core of her bones. She wants a bath and a beer and her bed.

And Henry. God, she misses him. All of this was for him—the believing, the magic, the heroism. And what has it gotten her? Trapped in a dangerous forest surrounded by fairytale characters—that's what.

She can't stop wondering if he's safe. Did Regina take him back, or is David is really looking after him, as Mary Margaret suggested? Or is Killian helping? Henry knows and trusts Killian way more than David.

Emma closes her eyes and wraps her arms a little tighter around herself as she sits beside the campfire when Killian pops into her mind. She's been trying not to think of him at all. Under the circumstances the last thing she should be dwelling on is the status of her relationship. She needs to focus on Henry. He's the one who really matters here.

Yet every time the thought of never seeing Killian again enters her thoughts, her heart aches even worse.

He would know how to survive in this crazy forest. He'd know what to say to reassure her. He'd know exactly what to do to solve their problems. Somehow, she knows he'd give her the hope that Mary Margaret hasn't managed to inspire, yet.

Not that Mary Margaret is a poor companion. She's proved herself capable and skilled in ways Emma never imagined her friend could be. But at the same time she keeps acting so— _maternal_.

That's something else Emma is struggling to accept.

After all the events of the past two days, she feels compelled to admit in her rational mind that the woman who, over the past months, has become one of the best friends she's ever had is in actuality her mother. A mother who, out of a sense of selfless sacrifice, sent her away to save all of her realm from a curse. And Emma never had any choice in the matter.

Emma looks up to meet Mary Margaret's eyes. Mary Margaret smiles. "Hey—we should turn in, now. We've got another long march ahead of us tomorrow. Mulan and I will split the watch. You haven't slept well in a few days. Go ahead and try to get at least a few hours in, okay?"

Emma swallows and nods, though she doesn't know how much sleep she'll manage with nothing but a thin blanket between her and the rocky ground, with ogre's lurking nearby. As she settles down she slips her hand into her pocket and closes her finger's around Killian's insignia. The smooth metal and worn leather give her a sense of comfortable familiarity. He told her it would bring her luck. Right now she needs all the luck she can get.

She pulls the insignia out and cradles it against her cheek. The weariness in her body is enough to overcome the discomfort, and it isn't long before she slips off to sleep.

Her dream isn't much different from her reality. She stands in a moonlit forest glade, hugging her body for warmth. She looks out over the unfamiliar terrain, wishing with all her heart that she could be sitting in a booth at Granny's, enjoying a hot meal with Henry and Killian. She longs for the sound of their laughter and the sight of their smiles.

She hears a few faint footfalls nearby, and her heart races a little as she turns her head.

Killian stands a few feet away from her, a sad smile on his face.

Her eyes get wider and her heart races even more. It can't be him. He's safe at home. "Killian?" she whispers.  
His face is clean-shaven again, and he wears a clean and crisp new clergy-shirt, unlike the tattered one she last saw him in. God, she hopes this is how he is now. Whole and healthy and well, so he has the strength to look after Henry for her.

"Aye," he says in reply to her question and nods his head. He stands just a few steps away from her. 

She can hear his breath—can see the tired lines on his face. Is he really here? This is so much more vivid than any other dream she's ever had.

"I'm sorry," he says, his voice heavy with emotion. "I'm sorry I didn't get to you sooner. If I'd been there with you, maybe I could have helped. Maybe this wouldn't have happened. Maybe you'd still be here with us." He shakes his head.

But she is with him. He's right in front of her. This is more than just a dream. She steps toward him and reaches out to grasp his arm. "Killian." Her fingers pass through his arm as if he's a ghost.

Emma gasps and steps back, looking down at her hand, and then back at him. His eyes are wide and startled, and without warning he vanishes in the blink of an eye.

"Killian!" she yells. "Come back. I need your help. Come back!"

A cold wind whips around her, and ominous sounds fill the air.

Emma falls to her knees and wraps her arms around her body. Why did he leave? Why?

She blinks her bleary eyes and stretches her kinked muscles at the sound of Mulan and Mary Margaret planning out their journey for the day. The first rays of dawn light the glade, and as she rubs her cheek she can feel bumps and lines pressed into her skin from sleeping on Killian's insignia all night.

It was just a dream.

~ ~ ~

Emma shouldn't be surprised when they find the Dark One's castle is now occupied by Robin Hood and his Merry Men. At least she's getting sufficiently used to this sort of thing that her surprise wears off after just a few minutes.

Robin recognizes Mary Margaret from the old wanted posters of her, and the two of them hit it off immediately.

"The Dark One and I had an encounter in the past that was rather unpleasant," says Robin with a smile. "We came here to see if we might find something to help compensate for past wrongs. You are more than welcome to join in the search. Anything to help you ladies get back to your family." He nods. "I know a few things about the importance of family," he says, shooting a warm smile at the small boy who sits on Little John's lap nearby.

Emma feels a knot in her chest at the sight of Robin's son. She never got to know Henry at this age. She missed so much. She can't bear to miss any more. "Thanks," she says. "We appreciate it."

Mary Margaret gets mired down in the massive library, but Emma has no idea where to start with books, so she roots through the various curio cabinets instead with a few of the "Merry Men," but she has no idea what the hell she's looking at or if anything there has any chance of getting her back to Storybrooke. It all feels so damn pointless. After a few hours she feels like throwing the rest of the bizarre knick-knacks across the room, because staring at them isn't accomplishing anything.

What if she never gets home? What if she's stuck here?

She feels a sob rising in her chest. This is too much. This can't be her life now.

"My lady," a voice says behind her. She turns to see Robin standing there. He nods shortly. "I can't imagine the pain you're in right now, separated from your son as you are. I don't know what I'd do if I were ripped away from Roland like that." He steps forward and rests a hand on her shoulder. "The solution you seek doesn't appear to be in this castle. But that doesn't mean it's not out there, somewhere. Don't lose faith."

Emma forces a smile and nods. "Thanks." His speech sounds like something Killian would have said. She reaches her hand into her pocket and squeezes Killian's insignia again.

Later that night Mary Margaret concedes defeat at the Dark One's castle, but suggests that there might be a way to revive the power of the wardrobe that first transported Emma to the land without magic, if they can find it intact. They plan to start their journey to her old castle in the morning, though this time it will just be the two of them—Mulan and Aurora have found some books hinting at a way they might yet revive Aurora's prince, after his encounter with a wraith.

Emma knows it's a bit perverse of her, but she's almost happy that for once Aurora seems to have it worse off than Emma does. At least Emma knows that the people she loves are still alive and well—just a little too far away.

She sleeps on a soft pallet on the floor—a step up from the hard forest floor—and once again clutches Killian's insignia in her hand as she sleeps.

~ ~ ~

In the morning, Killian sets aside his lingering heartache from his dream of Emma and gets back to work. He has a number of visitors that morning seeking additional counseling. Mid-morning he gets a welcome call from David, asking him to keep an eye on Henry for a few hours while he takes care of some business.

Henry interrogates Killian about Gold's progress with the hat, and Killian tries to make the news sound even better than it is. He tries to bolster the boy's spirits—and his own—by paying a visit to his ship.

"She really used to be yours?" Henry asks.

"That she was." Killian nods and sighs, once again surveying the gaudy paint-job and other tourist accoutrements. "I named her the Jolly Roger, and she was my home for more than three centuries. My ship is a marvel. I've missed her."

"You're 300 years old?" Henry gapes.

Killian laughs. "Don't look it, do I? Come on."

They head up the gangplank and step through the gates to find a cluster of the "museum" employees gathered for a meeting. Their timing is fortunate. The manager, a man Killian knew a very long time ago as his second mate, Connor, looks up with a relieved grin on his face. "Captain!"

He strides toward them and Killian greets him with a warm embrace. "So good to see you again, my friend."

"Gods, Captain, if only I'd known it was you all those times you came to visit—I'd have given you a discount!" replies Connor. They share a good laugh, and then Connor pulls him aside. "But seriously, Captain, all the kids—" He tilts his head to the cluster of young employees, "have been wondering whether or not they'll still be getting paychecks."

"Let me guess," says Killian, "Gold owns the museum and pays your salaries."

Connor nods.

Of course Gold owns the ship. He owns half the bloody town. Killian nods. "Don't worry about it. From this moment forward, consider me your boss. Again."

Connor smiles. "Aye, Captain. That's what I've been waiting to hear."

Killian orders Connor to close down the museum and set his people to work pulling out the tourist installations. "I want to see her sea-worthy again as soon as you can manage it," he says, leading them through the ship and pointing out all the offending features with Henry trotting along behind him, grinning. "I might even send over some of my youth groups to help out in the evenings. It'll give them something worthwhile to do."

Connor frowns. "So you're still keeping up this whole priest business?"

Killian shrugs and nods. "Yes. I am. What did you expect—that we'd take to the seas again when leaving the harbor would cost us all our memories?"

Connor sighs. "No. I hoped we'd find a way. But it looks like harbor cruises are the best we can look forward to."

"Still a step up from this travesty," replies Killian, resting a hand on one of the bulkheads. He wants to see his ship out on the open waters again. That's where she deserves to live.

"I'd love a harbor cruise," says Henry, bringing a smile to Killian's face. He leans over and ruffles the lad's hair.

"Then I'll see that you get one as soon as I can provide."

After a lunch at Granny's, David picks up Henry again. Killian is about to head back to the church when Ruby comes running up to him.

"Belle is missing," she says.

Killian furrows his brows. "What?"

"She was supposed to meet me here almost an hour ago for lunch, but didn’t show. I just tried to find her at the library—she wanted to take a look at it this morning—and I found her shoe on the ground outside the library doors. I think someone took her."

Killian curses. Can't they have a single day of peace in this town? He pulls out his phone and dials David, sure he can't be far away, yet.

With Ruby's help they track Belle to the old mines and arrive just in time to stop her father and Smee from setting Belle rolling in an ore cart toward the town line.

After Belle yells at her father and storms out of the mine, Ruby at her side, David pulls Mr. French aside for some hard words, and Killian grabs Smee by the collar before the man can sneak away.

"So this is who you've become?" he growls. "A man who'll kidnap a woman and try to destroy her mind for a handful of cash?"

"I needed the money," Smee insists. "And it's not like we were doing any real harm—just washing her mind clear of any delusions of loving the Dark One."

Killian frowns and gives Smee a little shake before releasing him. "Erasing someone's mind is no way to do them a favor. No one deserves that, for any reason. You should know that after the curse we all suffered. Everyone should know that."

"Since when have you been in the business of doing favors for the Dark One?" Smee asks with a puzzled frown.

"I didn't do this for the Dark One," replies Killian. "I did it for Belle. She's her own person—not just the Dark One's accessory. You should be ashamed of yourself."

"I needed the money," Smee whines defensively. "Do you know who I am here? A line worker at the fish cannery. I stink of fish. All my clothes—my hair—my hands. Everything. And I'm stuck living in a dank basement apartment. What kind of life is that?"

"Then find a better life," Killian snaps. "Don't take easy money for crime."

Smee shakes his head. "You think you're so respectable now, don't you? Walking around in your priest's get up, helping out that man they call the prince, acting like some kind of pillar of the community. I saw you at city hall yesterday. I could hardly believe my eyes. You're acting like you think this is all real." Smee gestures at his white clergy collar.

Killian clenches his jaw. "It is real."

"You honestly expect me to believe that you've found God? Come on, Captain. You're still a pirate at heart. Someday you'll wake up and realize the truth."

"The truth, Mr. Smee," says Killian drawing close to the shorter man's face, "is that I've found a better life here. And you can too, as soon as you get your head out of your arse. Now get out of here. Next time someone catches you doing something illegal, I'll see to it that you spend some time in the courthouse jail."

Smee scowls and shakes his head. "What happened to you?" He turns and huffs his way out of the mine.

Killian turns to see that David is also done dealing with Mr. French. "I gave him a stern warning," says David. "That's the best we can do, for now, until the town is running like normal again."

"It'll have to do," says Killian with a sigh.

They head out to finish their duties for the day, but Smee's words nag at the back of Killian's mind. He wants to believe that his priestly vocation is more than just an act, but when push comes to shove, will he have the fortitude to stick with his new principles, or will he slip back into his old ways? Only time will tell.

He visit's Gold's house again before the end of the day. Once again, Belle answers the door.

"Are you doing better?" he asks her as she leads him inside.

She nods. "I was a little rattled, but I’m fine now. Thank you for coming for me."

"It's no more than anyone else would have done."

"I'm not so sure about that," she replies, a soft smile on her face.

Killian feels a tight knot in his chest. Belle is far too good for Gold. He doesn't deserve someone as full of goodness as she is. He bites back his comments and heads down to the workshop to see Gold.

The man sits on a stool near his worktable, looking as tired as he did yesterday.

Gold frowns as soon as he sees Killian. "I've made progress, but it's not ready quite yet."

Killian sighs and nods. "Well, go ahead and call it a night. Take Belle out to dinner. She deserves a nice evening after the day she had."

Gold frowns and rises to his feet. "What game are you playing, Hook?"

"No game. But don't think I'm doing this for you. Belle deserves far better than you, but you're what she chose. I like her. I want her to have a pleasant evening. And as much as it pains me, time with you will count as a pleasant evening for her. That's all." 

Gold continues to eye him suspiciously, but nods. "Thank you. And—thank you for helping her, today. You didn't have to do that."

"Yes I did," replies Killian. "As soon as you understand why, perhaps you'll be worthy of that second chance Belle keeps talking about." 

He turns, about to leave, but looks back for a moment. "Oh—and I'll need you to sign the title to the _Jewel of the Realm_ over to me. I want my ship back. You can draw up the papers as soon as you're finished with the hat. Before you get started on your special project. But I do expect you to keep paying the staff salaries."

"Naturally," replies Gold with a sneer. "There's not much money in piracy these days."

Killian just shakes his head and leaves Gold standing alone in his workshop. Treating that man with kindness is exhausting. Killian never imagined that he'd ever be in a position where he'd have to interact with his old nemesis on a daily basis—that he'd have to treat the man civilly. It still doesn't sit well in his heart. Maybe Smee was at least partially right—there's still more of the pirate in his heart than he'd care to admit.

Belle is waiting for him upstairs. 

"He's done for the day. I hope you have a nice evening together," says Killian.

Her smile lights up her whole face. "Thank you. Really."

Killian turns to leave, but hesitates. If he truly cares about Belle, then he owes it to her to share the truth. "Has he ever told you why we have this old grudge between us?"

He meets her gaze, and she nods, biting her bottom lip before replying. "Yes. He said—he said that you stole his wife. The mother of his son."

Killian grimaces and shakes his head. "Tell me, love—if a woman comes to me begging me to take her away from the life she hates, is that theft?" He swallows the old pain that rises in his throat at the stricken look on Belle's face. "The truth of the matter is I loved her. Very much. We spent nearly eight years together, living as if we were man and wife. And when _he_ ," Killian points toward the basement stairs, "came across us again, he pulled her heart out of her chest, and crushed it into dust while she lay dying in my arms."

He clenches his teeth and looks away from Belle's frightened gaze.

"That can't…I don't..." Her voice trails off with uncertainty.

"I'm sorry," he says softly. "I shouldn't have ruined your evening. But I like you, Belle. You're a good woman, and you deserved to know the truth. Be wary of a man who would kill his old lover because she chose to leave him for another man. Someone with kind of hate in his heart shouldn't be trusted. Be careful."

He holds her eyes until she gives a quiet nod.

Killian nods back and turns to leave. He's still not certain if she believes him, but she needed to know the truth of what she's getting herself into. She needs to know to protect herself.

When he arrives home he has a quick dinner of canned soup before going for a long run—his first since the curse broke. He needs to work out all of his tension and frustration.

Between seeing Connor and Smee and his difficult conversation with Belle, his mind is full of troubling memories. Even his run isn't enough to banish them all.

When he returns home he opens the storage trunk where he hid his salvaged treasures from the Jolly Roger. He picks up his old hook and runs his fingers over the smooth curve of the steel. There's a voice inside of him that still cries out to sink the hook into Gold's chest and end things once and for all, as soon as Emma is home safe.

He sets the hook on his dresser and heads to the shower, hoping the warm water will help wash away his troubles.

~ ~ ~

As she sleeps on her pallet in the Dark One's castle, Killian's insignia clasped in her hand, Emma dreams of standing on the deck of a ship, much like the old-fashioned _Jewel of the Realm_ from Storybrooke.

The sails overhead billow in the wind, the clear blue skies filling her heart with hope. She grips the railing and leans forward, looking out over the water rushing past the ship with a smile on her face.

"Emma?"

She turns to see Killian standing behind her, looking vastly different from how she's seen him before.

He wears black leather from head to toe—a sweeping black coat over a vest with a shirt that might as well not have buttons considering the amount of chest he's showing. Silver pendants dangle around his neck, an earring hangs from one ear, his face is covered in a short beard, and a sword hangs from the belt at his waist.

As if the garb isn't shocking enough, his normal and practical prosthetic is now replaced by a shiny, sharp, and doubtless deadly hook.

Emma swallows hard and blinks a few times. "Wow. This is… um… different."

Killian smiles self-consciously as he looks down at himself, and his hair dances in the breeze. "Yes. Well, um, I ran into several faces from my past today. I guess my thoughts brought me back here."

"Back here?" Emma asks, as things start to click in her mind. All that he'd told her about his past—Gold and Regina calling him a pirate—and how he'd told her there was more that he needed to explain.

He nods. "This is who I was, before the curse. I was… a pirate."

"Well." She nods slowly, eyeing him up and down. "It's not a bad look for you. Just… different." Her eyes travel down his arm to the hook again, and she feels as if a light bulb is flashing in her mind. "Oh God." She flicks her eyes back up to meet his gaze. "You're Captain Hook, aren't you?"

He shrugs with an unapologetic smirk on his face. "Guilty."

Emma closes her eyes and takes a deep breath. Naturally she was dating Captain Hook. The savior could never be lucky enough to get a nice, normal, respectable boyfriend. But this isn't real. It's just a dream. Her subconscious projecting her fears. Besides—he isn't her boyfriend anymore. Is he?

She opens her eyes again. "Of course you are. Who else would you be?

He steps a little closer to her, and her heart races at the sight of him in that get-up.

"I wanted to tell you. I wanted to tell you so many things. But we never had time. I'm sorry."

Her sorrows from earlier in the day well back up. She ran out of time for so many of the things she wanted. "I'm sorry, too." She shakes her head. "I'm scared that I'll never get home again. I'm scared that I'll never see Henry again."

"David is taking good care of him," says Killian. "I'm helping when I can. He's such a strong, brave lad, Emma. Just like his mother."

"I don't feel very strong or brave right now." She knows this isn't real, but she can feel the tears welling in her eyes anyway. She's never had a dream more vivid and potent than this one. "All I feel is lost."

"We'll find you, Emma. I promise. We're working on a way to get to you right now. And I won't give up until we make it work."

His words fill her with hope for just a moment, but then the harsh realities of her situation sink back in. She looks down at her feet and a tear rolls down her cheek. "I wish I could believe that it'll work. But right now it feels so impossible."

Killian takes another step toward her. "Hey—Emma—look at me."

She lifts her eyes to meet his intense blue gaze. 

"You can do this," he says. "You'll make it. I know you can be strong. I know you can find your way back to us. And I won't stop. I won't give up on you. Not for an instant. I love you, Emma. I love you." 

Her heart leaps at the thought that he's out there loving her—fighting to find her. She smiles even as more tears drop. He tries to close the distance between them—tries to caress her cheek—but his fingers pass right through her.

"Damn," he whispers, stepping back again. He begins to fade, growing transparent before her eyes.

"No. Killian—don't go," she says.

"Emma, I won't—" But he vanishes before he can finish his sentence.

She wakes with cheeks wet with tears and the insignia clamped in a white-knuckled hand. It was only a dream. Only her mind playing games with her. There's no way it can be real, no matter how much she wishes it is.

~ ~ ~

Killian gasps awake and sits up in his bed. His heart races in his chest, and he runs his hand through his hair as he fights to catch his breath.

She'd been there, on the deck of the Roger, right in front of him.

She'd looked so broken and afraid. All he wanted to do was take her in his arms, but she'd been nothing more than an insubstantial vision.

"Emma," he whispers, "was that really you?" 

There is no answer in the darkness, and the dull ache in his heart swells to a throbbing pain.

 

tbc


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was distracted writing a few one-shots, but I finally have an update for you! I'm still mirroring canon, but I've decided to drop a few of the canon plots in order to tighten up my story arc, most notably Henry's sleeping curse nightmares. Enjoy! As usual - disclaimer: a few lines of dialog were borrowed from the show; none of it belongs to me, etc.

Killian meets David for breakfast at Granny's to touch base on how things are going in town as everyone adjusts to the new normal. He has trouble concentrating with the images of his latest dream of Emma still vivid in his mind. He still doesn't know if it's his wistful heart latching onto a false hope, or if there really is something more tangible behind those dreams. As much as he hopes for the latter, he's afraid to latch onto that hope.

The school is back open and Henry is returning to class, but David has plans to teach the boy the basics of horsemanship in the afternoon.

"He's a prince," says David. "It's time I started teaching him all the princely skills." He raises an eyebrow at Killian before adding, "And then you can teach him how to be a pirate."

Killian smiles. "You'd be surprised, mate—the skills needed to be a pirate can come in handy in any number of situations."

"I'm sure they do." David shakes his head, but he still wears a friendly expression.

"Speaking of princely skills," says Killian, "I have your sword out in my car. I'll give it to you on our way out."

"How'd you get my sword?"

"Gold gave it to Emma, a bit before the curse broke. We both used it a little, that day, though she was far more successful in her endeavors than I was." He meets David's eyes and can't help but wear a proud smile as he says, "She killed a dragon. One Regina had trapped down in the caverns below the library."

David's eyes are wide. "Really? Emma killed a dragon?"

Killian nods and David looks stunned.

After a moment David says. "You know, I'm a little jealous of you."

"Really?"

David nods. "You know my daughter better than I do. I never got to know her when I had the chance. And now…"

"You'll get your chance," says Killian firmly, though doubts still plague him. "You'll get all the time you need."

David swallows hard and nods. He doesn't seem any more confident than Killian feels.

On their way out of the diner, Dr. Whale stops them and pesters them both, saying that he's heard rumors they're working on a way to open portals to another word and demand to be among the first to use the portals. They deflect his questions. Killian's not ready to make the hat public knowledge, yet. Not until they're sure it will work. When they ask him, the doctor refuses to reveal his old identity to them, and stomps off in a huff muttering something about going to Regina for help, instead.

"Good luck with that," mutters David as Whale strides away.

After giving David his sword, Killian spends the next few hours dealing with his usual duties as well as checking in with Connor's work on restoring the Roger to her former glory. He has a regular stream of visitors to his office—people looking to make confessions or seek guidance as they reconcile their dual identities. 

The most welcome of his visitors that day arrives just after lunch. Johanna Flocker, an older woman from his parish, drops in. She regularly volunteers at the food pantry and teaches a children's bible class every Wednesday night.

Killian welcomes her warmly, and his eyes widen in shock when she states her purpose for being there. "I served as the personal maid for Snow White's mother, Queen Eva, for many years, and then looked after Snow for many more years after her mother's death. I can't believe she's gone, after just finding her family again." Johanna shakes her head, tears standing in her eyes. "I never got to see her after her marriage to the prince—I was too far away to travel easily. I was desperately hoping to see her again, and then when I heard—" She bites off her words, her voice filled with emotion. She shakes her head, and meets his eyes. "Father, I've heard that you're helping the prince look after his grandson, now that Snow and her daughter are gone. Is that true?"

Killian nods, the now-familiar twinge of pain stirring in his chest at the memory of Emma's absence. "I am helping out. The boy, Henry, and I were friends even before the curse broke, and I've been stepping up when I can."

Johanna nods. "If there's ever any way that I can help look after him—if you ever need a babysitter or someone to give him rides—I want to help. It's the least I can do, for Snow's sake."

"Yes. Absolutely. I'm sure David will be delighted by your offer. And you'd be able to tell Henry more about his grandmother as a child. I'm sure he'd love it." 

They arrange to meet David and Henry at Granny's for dinner. Johanna may prove to be the perfect after-school babysitter that David's been looking for.

Henry seems to take to Johanna right away at their dinner, and David seems equally thrilled to have this new connection to Snow's past. They readily make arrangements for her to watch Henry a few hours a day after school.

As Killian's leaving from dinner, Belle comes into the diner and stops him. "I'm glad I caught you," she says. Her face is tired and a bit haggard, and her shoulders sag.

Killian frowns at the sight. "Belle—is everything all right?"

She shakes her head. "It's just been a difficult day. Rumple and I are still—working out some kinks in our relationship."

Killian clenches his jaw, knowing that he's the one to blame, after telling Belle about Milah last night. But it's for the best. This way she can make her choices regarding Gold with a full understanding of who he really is. Knowledge is always better than ignorance in cases such as these. "Sorry, love. I wish this could be easier for you."

Belle sighs, looking down at her feet. "I think you were right to keep the dagger. He's not ready to make the right choices with his power, yet."

"For your sake, I hope he comes around. But he's very set in his ways," says Killian.

Belle squeezes her lips together and nods. "I'm not giving up on him. I have to hold onto hope. But apparently I need to learn patience."

Killian's not sure if all the patience in the world will be enough to help her endure the Dark One. It certainly didn't work for _him_. It's still a struggle to restrain his anger every time he faces the man. He nods sympathetically. "Was there something you wanted to talk about? You seemed to be looking for me."

"Yes," Belle replies. "The hat is nearly finished. When I went to visit him this afternoon I got the feeling that he was slowing down his work on purpose, just to spite you. I had a hard talk with him and he got back to work. I expect he'll be done in the morning. You and David should talk to the man who knows how to work the portals. I think you'll be needing him tomorrow."

Killian thanks Belle for the information, and he's glad to see her going to Ruby for further conversation as he's leaving. Given the position of power he's in over Gold right now, Killian could never offer Belle the same kind of comfort and friendship that Ruby can.

He calls David with the good news and they agree to meet at Gold's at ten in morning. Killian then calls Jefferson. The man is a little more cheerful now that he's reunited with his daughter (though the strange new mixed family is now planning to see Dr. Hopper once a week for the foreseeable future to make it all work). Still, he warns Killian that the hat portals might not be the solution they're hoping for.

"You can explain the complications tomorrow when we test out the hat," replies Killian. "Just be there. We'll find a way to make it work."

After another long run, Killian lies in his bed exhausted but feeling a renewed sense of hope. Today was almost normal. Things are getting better for everyone, and the hat will soon be working.

Maybe things will work out, after all. Maybe he'll see Emma again, soon.

~ ~ ~

Emma feels a few pangs of sorrow when she says goodbye to Robin Hood and Mulan. They were good companions (though Aurora she could have done without). The hike to Mary Margaret's old castle is supposed to take most of two days, and Emma is exhausted just thinking about it—especially now that it's just the two of them. No buffer between her and her _mother_.

She manages to keep the conversation sparse and focused on the tasks at hand—or on the familiar sights of the world Mary Margaret grew up in. The last thing Emma wants to deal with today is another interrogation about her past. She can tell that Mary Margaret still feels guilty about everything she's missed, but talking about it won't make it any better. Emma is _not_ here to assuage her friend's— _mother's_ —feelings of regret. She's here to get back to her son so he doesn’t have to grow up the way she did.

(But he won't, a voice in her head reminds her. He has David. And Killian. Killian who's a priest and a naval officer—not freaking Captain Hook. That was just a dream. Dreams aren't real, not even in a fairytale world. She hopes.)

They have a few tense minutes when an ogre on the hunt crosses their path, but Mary Margaret's tracking and archery skills once again save the day.

By the time the sun sets, Emma is exhausted. They find a small cave to shelter in, and build a fire for some warm, though they still only have dried meats and dried fruit for food.

Before settling down on her blanket, Emma pulls out Killian's insignia again.

"What's that?" Mary Margaret asks.

Emma clenches her hand around the insignia, and her face gets warm. This isn't exactly a secret, but it's not something she feels like talking about, either. Dissecting her feelings for Killian (the man she's been having vivid dreams about every night since coming here—not that it means anything, does it?) is at the top of the list of things she's not ready to talk about with Mary Margaret. Not anymore. Not since she went into _mommy-mode_.

She coughs and shakes her head. "It's nothing. Just—sort of a good luck charm."

Mary Margaret raises her eyebrows and smiles. "Really? I didn't think you believed in that sort of thing."

"Says the fairytale princess," replies Emma. She tucks the insignia back into her pocket and shrugs. "I guess I have to believe in a lot of things now that I didn't used to. Besides, it certainly can't hurt."

Mary Margaret nods with an optimistic smile on her face. "It certainly can't." She pauses a moment, her lips hovering open. "It said _Jones_ on the back. Did Killian give it to you?"

Great. Exactly what she doesn't want to talk about.

"Yeah. He did," she says shortly.

Mary Margaret doesn't take the hint. "Emma—I saw the way you and Killian were together after you broke the curse. He cares about you very much. What's really going on between you?"

"Nothing right now," Emma grumbles, staring at the fire. Nothing but some bizarre dreams. Not that she intends to share anything about _those_.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

"No," says Emma, with a little more harshness than she intends. "Sorry," she says, softer. "I just really don't want to have this conversation right now."

"Okay." Mary Margaret squeezes her lips together, obvious disappointment in her eyes. "Okay. We'll just sleep."

"Yeah." Emma nods. She curls up on her blanket while Mary Margaret banks the fire.

Once they're both in deeper darkness, Emma slips her hand back into her pocket and pulls the insignia back out. The dreams might be strange, but they always leave her feeling a little better in the morning. And they always come when she's holding the insignia. Maybe she'll have another one, tonight.

~ ~ ~

Emma sighs happily. She feels her soft pillow beneath her head and she breathes in the scent of floral fabric softener on her freshly laundered sheets. She smiles and stretches. It feels so good to be waking up in her own bed. 

All that fairytale nonsense was nothing but a bad dream. Now she can get up and start forgetting about it. The sooner the better.

She opens her eyes and gasps in surprise. Killian is lying on his side next to her, smiling at her.

"What the hell are you doing?" she asks.

"Watching you sleep," he replies. He's wearing one of those tight tee-shirts that he wears when he goes out running (and a clergyman really ought to know better than to wear something like that where all the women in town can ogle him), but his bottom half is under the blankets.

There are a scant few inches of space between them, but they aren't touching.

"Why?" she asks.

"You looked so peaceful," he replies. "I don't get to see you like that very often."

"True," she says, still wondering how he managed to get into bed with her without waking her up. "That still doesn't explain why you're here. In my apartment. In my bed."

He smiles wider and shrugs. "Who knows how the human subconscious works. I've only seen your room once, with David, and yet, here we are. Clearly my unconscious mind knows exactly where it wants to be, even if my waking mind isn't half so bold." His face sobers a little. "I miss you, Emma."

Her heart contracts as the sudden realization sets in. "This is just another dream, isn't it?"

He nods and sighs softly. "I'm afraid so."

She swallows hard and opens her mouth, finally daring to ask the question that's been troubling her for days. "Are these real? Are we both really having the same dreams?"

"I don't know. I hope so," he says, "but I don't know. I could just be talking to my subconscious."

"Or I could be talking to _mine_ ," Emma replies.

He nods, his head still resting against the pillow next to hers. If she shifted her arm just a little, she could reach out and touch him. But she doesn't dare. Not if it means he'll vanish again. She's not ready for him to go.

"In either case, I'm still happy to see you," he says.

She finds herself smiling back. "Me too," she confesses.

"Henry is doing well," Killian says. "David took him to the stables today. He wants to teach him how to ride. He seems to think every prince needs to know how to ride."

Emma smiles wider. "Sounds like fun."

"Indeed," Killian replies, his eyes shining. His voice gets softer. "We think we've found a way to get to you. Jefferson's hat—it was damaged, but Gold is fixing it. It's almost ready."

"Don't bring Henry here," says Emma firmly. "It's horrible. His life is better right where he is."

Killian's eyes get slightly wider. "Alright. I make sure he stays put. But what if we send someone through to bring you home?"

Emma's eyes well with tears. "Do you think you can really do that?"

"We're doing our utmost to make it happen. If all goes as planned, someone will be coming for you before the day is out tomorrow." His face is as serious as she's ever seen it.

She smiles through her tears. "Thank you. Thank you. Our only hope on this end was to revive the old magic wardrobe my parents sent me through. Your plan sounds a lot better."

He grins back, and she can feel her heart race. To see him again—to be back with him and Henry. (She tries not to dwell on the fact that thinking of the three of them together feels like family to her.)

"I really want to kiss you right now," he whispers.

Her chest swells, and she knows she feels the same way. "But if you do…"

"…you might vanish," he finishes her thought.

She nods.

After a moment of bittersweet silence, Emma says, "Maybe we could just stay here a little longer? Until we fall back asleep?"

He searches her eyes, his gaze filled with emotion. "I would like that."

"Me too."

They lie in peaceful, comfortable silence. For a time she studies his eyes—his face—his hand curled up so near her own. Then, she closes her eyes and simply listens to the sound of his breathing until she falls back asleep.

She wakes on the cold hard ground of the cave with Killian's insignia still curled in her hand, and her cheeks wet with tears.

~ ~ ~

Killian's blissful dream leaves him feeling like today will be a truly glorious day—the day he's reunited with Emma.

But things in Storybrooke are never that simple.

When Killian and David show up at Gold's place at ten, Gold grudgingly admits that the hat is ready. When Jefferson turns up a few minutes later, they're ready for a trial run.

"Okay—if this works," says Jefferson, holding the hat in the middle of Gold's living room, "I'm taking a quick peek in, and then coming right back. I'm not willing to risk being separated from Grace again. Not after so many years."

"I understand," says Killian, and he means it. He can't imagine the torture Jefferson suffered for so many years having his daughter so close, yet impossibly out of reach.

They watch intently as Jefferson sets the hat on the ground and gives it a little spin.

Killian can't stop grinning after the hat begins to spin of its own accord, a whirling purple vortex opening at their feet.

Jefferson meets his eyes with a tight lipped nod, and leaps into the void.

Killian holds his breath, staring at the swirling portal at his feet, the wind whipping through the room, setting the drapes dancing, and waits.

A moment later Jefferson reappears, leaping out of the portal to land on his feet beside the sofa, while the hat drops to a standstill.

David takes a step toward Jefferson. "Did it work—is it…?"

Jefferson nods. "The Enchanted Forest is still there, just as we suspected. I only took a glimpse, and the village I used to live in looks like a warzone. But it's there. Intact and waiting."

David's face breaks into a broad grin and an excited laugh escapes his lips. Without warning he strides over to Killian and catches him in a big hug. Killian returns the embrace and shares in the laughter.

"It works!" says David. "We can find them! Thank you, Gold. This means the world to us."

Gold leans against the wall in the shadows, wearing a solemn look on his face. He nods in acknowledgement but seems otherwise disinterested.

"Don't get too excited," says Jefferson. "There are strict rules to how this hat works. You can't just go through and bring more people back with you. The number of people who go in has to match the number of people who come back out."

Killian swallows hard. "I remember," he whispers. He hasn't let himself think about that complication until now, he's been so focused on getting the portal to open in the first place.

David shakes his head. "No. No no no. How are we supposed to bring Snow and Emma back without stranding ourselves if only two can return?"

"You take two patsies with you to abandon in their places," says Gold softly. He looks up to meet Killian's gaze with a wicked gleam in his eyes. "Or two bodies—I'm given to understand those work as well. Isn't that right, Captain?"

David spins back to look at Killian, his old suspicions once more flashing in his eyes. "You've done this before?"

"When I was enlisted by Regina to assassinate her mother in Wonderland. I told you about this already, mate, remember?"

"I didn't know you used this hat," David's voice wavers. After days of building up trust, Killian can see it all crumbling again.

"Mate—"

Jefferson interrupts. "You went up against the Queen of Hearts and succeeded?" he says incredulously.

Killian takes a deep breath, trying to weigh what to say next. But in his hesitation, Gold takes the chance to speak again.

"Of course not." Gold steps from the shadows. "The pirate did what pirates do—he looked out for his own skin and betrayed Regina, forming a new alliance with Cora. He helped her get to the Enchanted Forest. And she's still there, no doubt looking for a way to be reunited with her darling daughter."

Shit. Killian can see the betrayal blossom in David's eyes. The next thought to flash through Killian's mind is that he can order Gold to go through with them, and then abandon the man there to bring Emma home. It would be a fitting punishment for having concocted this elaborate, evil scheme to find his son in the first place. Now they just needed to find a second villain to abandon. (There are still some who might label Killian just such a villain, and the thought gives him a moment's pause.)

"You knew this? You knew the witch Cora was there this whole time, and you didn't tell me?" says David.

Killian clenches his jaw. He'll have words with Gold about this later. "What good would it have done? You knowing wouldn't have fixed the hat any faster. Emma and Mary Margaret are still safe. We just need to get to them."

"How do you know?" David demands.

Killian's mind immediately leaps to thoughts of all his dreams. They felt so damn real. It had to mean something, didn't it? "Just a gut feeling," he says softly.

David shakes his head and looks away.

Damn it.

Jefferson throws his hands out in frustration. "Sorry, friend, but there is no way I'm going through with you if there's any chance Cora is waiting on the other side. You have no idea what she did to me in Wonderland—the torture she put me through. I'm staying right here, and so is the hat. I won't let her get her hands on it. I'll help you cross over, but you'll have to find your own way back."

Killian stomps toward Jefferson, waving his hook in the man's face (though this modern version lacked the same deadly threat as the old steel hook sitting on his dresser at home). "Don't do this to us, Jefferson. I helped you find your daughter. You owe me!"

"Yes, you helped me find her. And I'm grateful. But I won't risk losing her again. I'm sorry." Jefferson shakes his head, and out of the corner of his eye Killian can see Gold grinning.

That's when David's phone rings. David answers and a shocked expression comes over his face as he talks to the person on the other end. When he hangs up he gestures to Killian. "Come with me. There's been an incident at the hospital—I could use some back up." Then he points at Gold. "But we will be back later today. We're going to find a way to make this all work, and you're going to help us."

Killian nods sharply at Gold. "Spend the next few hours thinking up a way for us to open a portal from the Enchanted Forest without using the hat. Consider that an order." He glances at Jefferson. "We'll call you when we're ready to leave."

At the hospital they find Whale in agony—his arm viciously torn from his body by a rampaging monster of his own creation. Whale is apparently Dr. Frankenstein, who though bringing Regina's old boyfriend back from the dead would win him enough favor to earn a portal back to his own realm.

Killian is fairly certain that's the worst idea he's ever heard in his life.

Regina is reluctant to accept David and Killian's help at first, for obvious reasons. If Milah had been resurrected, even as some sort of zombie, Killian would hesitate to end her life a second time. But in the end she agrees. Especially once they realize the dead man may be headed toward the stables—the very place Henry plans on going after school.

Killian's heart nearly stops when they arrive to find the undead man already attacking Henry. David manages to get the boy away from the monster and locks it in a stall, shouting for Killian to get Henry to safety. 

Without a second thought Killian scoops the boy into his arms and carries him outside to the truck. He can't lose Henry. He won't. As soon as they reach the truck he sets Henry on the passenger seat and looks him over. "Are you alright?" he asks, his voice shaking and his heart racing.

Henry nods, his eyes wide. "I'm okay. You need to go back and help them."

"No. I won't leave you," says Killian. He let go of one boy a long time ago, and he's regretted it ever since. He won't let go of this one.

"My mom and Grandpa need your help. I'll lock the doors. I'll be fine."

Killian swallows his fears and nods. "If there's any trouble— _anything_ —you honk that horn good and loud until we come. Okay?"

"Okay." Henry nods.

Killian steps back and closes the door, nodding when Henry clicks the lock. He turns and dashes back into the stable. David is near the doors, looking down the corridor toward where Regina stands. He holds Killian back, and they both watch as Regina's encounter with her old love turns from a gentle reunion into a violent clash, which ends with Regina disintegrating the creature into dust and dissolving into sobs.

Killian can taste her anguish in his throat. He's been in her shoes. He's felt that pain—that driving need for revenge, for justice, for peace.

She gave him the peace he needed, and he finds himself wishing he could do the same for her in return.

He approaches her cautiously, with David hanging back.

"Regina," he says softly.

She shakes her head and gestures for him to leave. But he won't. Not yet.

"Regina," he says again. "Henry was terrified for you. Come see him. Let him see that you're alright."

After another moment he sees her spine stiffen. She turns and blots away the tears on her cheeks as she walks past him.

He and David follow her outside and watch as Henry tumbles out of the truck and into her arms. He holds her tight for a few moments before letting go.

Slowly Killian and David approach.

"Thank you for your help," Regina says in a low voice. She meets David's eyes. "Take good care of him." 

David nods. Regina strokes Henry's cheek one last time before striding briskly to her car.

Killian and David take a half hour to get Henry situated at Johanna's house before heading back to Gold's. They sit in the truck for a few minutes strategizing.

"I almost wish we'd saved that monster," says David. "We could have used him as one of the bodies."

Killian shakes his head. "It doesn't matter, now. Not now that we know Jefferson won't go with us. Even if we took the hat, we'd never get it working again without his help."

"So what do we do?" David's eyes look lost again.

Killian's mind flits back to his earlier, dark impulse. "Jefferson could teach Gold how to work the hat. I could command him to take us through, and then…" He speaks in a low tone, though no one else is around to hear, and even as he trails off, he already feels guilty.

In all other ways he is proud of the man the church has made him—but not when it comes to the Dark One. A large part of him still wants his vengeance, but an even larger part cringes at the thought of what it would do to Belle—of what Henry and Emma would think of him. And he wonders if his past misdeeds are really any less worthy of punishment than Gold's, or would God look on them as sinners of equal magnitude—both worthy of punishment, but both capable of salvation? He doesn't have the answer to that question, and he's not even sure if he wants it.

"Abandon him?" David says softly.

Killian shakes his head. "Of course not. Forgive me. That was a dishonorable suggestion."

David studies Killian for a moment. "I thought reconciling my two personalities was hard for me—but it's a lot harder for you, isn't it? Father Jones and Captain Hook aren't much alike."

Killian rubs his ear absently and stares at the dashboard. "Not much, no. But Father Jones is a great deal like Lieutenant Jones—the man I used to be before I lost my brother. Before I lost my kingdom. Before I lost my love." He's thought this in passing before, but now, as he vocalizes it, he sees just how true it is. He shakes his head. "This man—the man Father Jones is—was always inside of me. It just took a curse to bring him back to the surface. But I can't fully be him, again. Not with three hundred years of darkness still inside of me."

He blinks in surprise when David rests a hand on his shoulder. "I know this isn't easy—but I also know that you're trying. Your heart is in the right place. You should have warned me about Cora, but it's okay. We all slip up. I trust you, Killian."

Killian's widen. "Thank you."

David smiles and nods. "Let's go see if Gold has any more productive suggestions than we've come up with."

Killian feels a little dazed as he follows David up to Gold's house. David's acceptance of who is—both present and past—gives him hope that Emma might yet give him that same kind of acceptance.

Once they get inside Killian faces Gold. "Well? Do you have any ideas how we can open a portal from the Enchanted Forest."

"I do," he says with a smug grin. "Have a seat."

They all sit in the living room, Killian and David both facing Gold intently.

"All the pieces you need are still in place," says Gold, "but it'll take some doing. You'll need to collect some ingredients. Starting with that magic wardrobe you used to send little Emma through to this world twenty-eight years ago."

Killian's heart leaps. "That's perfect! Emma and Snow are already headed there."

Both Gold and David stare at him.

Gold's eyes narrow suspiciously. "Exactly how do you know that?"

"I…" He glances at David. He hid information from him once, but he won't do it again—no matter how outlandish it might be. He takes a deep breath. "I've been having dreams. Dreams more vivid and real than any I've ever had before. I keep seeing Emma—talking to her. They feel as if she's really there with me. I know it's ridiculous, but they feel real. They feel magical. And last night she told me that they're headed to find the wardrobe."

Gold shakes his head. "It would take powerful magic to send dreams across realms. Even more powerful than Cora. More powerful than me. I'm sorry to say that those dreams are nothing more than your own wistful subconscious."

"They feel like more than that," Killian insists.

"Of course they do," sneers Gold. "You're a man in love."

Killian clenches his jaw and looks away.

"It's alright, Killian. Your dreams might not be real, but that doesn't mean this plan won't work," says David gently. He turns back to Gold. "Tell us the rest."

Gold's plan involves several potions from his workshop and several ingredients gathered in the Enchanted Forest. It's complicated, but when Killian orders him to swear that he's telling the truth, he does. It's not just a ruse to strand them. But the plan isn't quick or easy. Whoever goes through the hat will be gone at least two days. Possibly longer.

Killian swallows hard and looks David. "Okay. We have a plan. But there's one problem. What do we do with Henry?"

David's face falls and he nods.

Killian stands. "Let's go talk this over in private." He glances at Gold. "You stay here."

Gold rolls his eyes and leans back in his chair as Killian and David step into another room.

"I'm his grandfather. I should stay here with him," says David immediately.

"I'd agree with you, except for the Regina situation," replies Killian. "She's in a fragile state of mind. I'd like to believe that she won't do anything to sabotage Emma's return, but we can't count on that. The only person powerful enough to stop her is Gold. And he'll only stop her if I order him to." He reaches out to grip David's shoulder. It hurts like hell to give up his shot at seeing Emma today, but this is the right thing to do. "You're also Mary Margaret's husband, and Emma's father. And you know the terrain of the Enchanted Forest—I hadn't lived there for three hundred years. You need to be the one to go. If—if you can trust me to watch over Henry for you?"

David's face is tight with emotion. "You'll keep him safe?"

"I'll protect him with my life if need be. And if—" His voices catches for a moment. "If something goes wrong and you don't make it back, I'll raise him as my own. I'll give him the good life he deserves. I swear it on my heart and soul."

David takes a deep breath. "Okay. Let's get ready."

It takes them a few hours to get all the supplies together. Then they go to Johanna's house for Henry.

David kneels in front of him and gives him a big hug. "If you want me to stay, I will. I'll send Killian instead."

Henry shakes his. "No. I get it. You're a hero. This is what you do."

David nods, a bittersweet smile on his face. "Yeah. It is."

"Killian will take care of me. I trust him." 

Killian smiles, his heart swelling as Henry meets his eyes. He wants more than anything to be the hero who rescues Emma and brings her home. But that's not the lot fate has handed him. Someone needs to look after Henry—to look after the entire town. And that someone is him.

They all meet Jefferson at Gold's house. Belle is there again, standing beside her lover, though she looks sullen and frustrated.

Henry gives David one last hug as Jefferson sets the hat on the ground. "Find my mom," Henry says. "Find her and come home."

"We will," says David, his voice shaking. "I'll only be gone a few days. I promise. And then we'll all be back."

Henry nods and backs up to where Killian stands. When Killian wraps an arm around the boy's shoulders, he leans into him, sending a wave of warmth and love through Killian. This boy is his family, now. Even if Emma never comes back—or if she comes back and doesn't want to be with him—it doesn't matter. Family is family, and now Henry is his.

Jefferson spins the hat, and the portal opens.

Killian squeezes Henry a little tighter as David shoulders his pack, and leaps through.

The hat comes to a stand-still.

Killian takes a deep breath. He can almost feel the weight of responsibility settling onto his shoulders.

He squeezes Henry's shoulder reassuringly, and turns to Gold. "Do you have a safe in the house?"

Gold nods.

"Good," says Killian. "Lock up the hat. Keep it safe. In case we need it again. And when you're done I need you to go to the hospital. Whale lost an arm today. I want to you use your magic to heal it."

Gold scowls at him. "As you wish." He scoops the hat up and leaves for another room.

Killian thanks Jefferson, shaking his hand and sending him on his way. Then Belle approaches. She looks at both him and Henry as she speaks. "I hope David finds them. I hope he brings them home."

"Thank you," Killian replies.

They take their leave, and he drives Henry back to his condo. Henry's bag sits on the back seat of his car. "I'm sorry your grandfather couldn't stay here for you. He'd be the best man for the job. Unfortunately, he was the best man for _that_ job, too."

"It's okay, Killian," says Henry. "Really. I like you. I trust you. And they'll all be back soon."

Killian smiles and clenches the steering wheel. "I hope you're right."

He gets Henry settled into the guest room and makes some dinner. He tries to keep things light, talking about the progress of fixing up the _Jolly Roger_. Henry seems far better than he expected, but he suspects the boy is just hiding his fears. He'll have to talk to Dr. Hopper in the morning. Henry might need a session or two while they wait.

Killian's own heart sits heavy in his chest. He wants nothing more than to see Emma again—to reunite her with her son. But it's out of his hands. There's nothing he can do but wait.

If only his dreams were real. If only they weren't just a product of his hopes and wishes.

~ ~ ~

The sun has already set when Emma and Mary Margaret finally arrive at the castle. Walls and towers are crumbling. The entire place looks a little unstable. But when Emma sees the devastated look on Mary Margaret's face, she doesn't say anything. She just follows her quietly into the broken palace that was supposed to be her childhood home.

They pick their way through rubble-littered corridors. "The wardrobe was in your nursery," says Mary Margaret softly. "It's this way."

As they turn a corner, they see the unmistakable glow of torchlight coming from a room at the end of the hall.

Immediately Mary Margaret raises her bow, an arrow at the ready. Emma follows her example and raises the sword she picked up at the Dark One's castle. They move slowly and stealthily down the hall toward the lit room.

Emma's heart pounds. It might just be more refugees, but why would they be in the very room holding the wardrobe?

They pause outside the door. Mary Margaret meets Emma's eyes and nods.

They burst through the door, their weapons ready for action.

A lone man spins to face them, raising a gleaming sword.

They freeze, and Emma's jaw drops in shock.

"David?" says Mary Margaret.

David lowers his sword, his face breaking out in a grin. "Snow. It's me. I found you."

She drops her bow and rushes into his arms. They kiss passionately as Emma sheathes her sword and walks unsteadily toward them. Is this really happening, or is it just a trick?

David pulls back from Mary Margaret a little and laughs, grinning at Emma. "I can't believe you're really here! Killian said you would be, but I didn't believe him."

Emma knits her eyebrows. "What do you mean? What did Killian say?"

"He said you were coming to find the wardrobe," replies David.

"How did he know?" Mary Margaret asks.

David shakes his head, looking giddy with delight. He meets Emma's eyes. "He said you told him. In a dream."

Emma feels as if the wind has been knocked out of her, and she grips the nearest piece of furniture to steady herself.

_They're real. The dreams are real._

 

tbc


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was going to take this chapter all the way up to a return to Storybrooke, but then it started looking like it would run 10,000 words long, and that’s way too much for one chapter. So I split it up. But the good news is that I have a big chunk of the next section written so there will probably be a second update this week. Enjoy! As usual - disclaimer: a few lines of dialog were borrowed from the show; none of it belongs to me, etc.

Emma feels her parents' eyes boring into her and she tightens her grip on the heavy wooden chair beside her.

Mary Margaret's jaw drops a little and then she asks, "Emma—is this true? Have you been sharing dreams with Killian?"

"I… I… I don't know. I thought they were just dreams." Emma closes her eyes and takes a deep breath. If these dreams are real—if it wasn't just in her head—then everything he said to her, everything she saw, wasn't just her subconscious fantasies. It was all true. Killian really was looking after Henry. He really had been working with David to get to them. He really does _love her_ (that one makes her heart skip a beat), and he really was Captain Hook. (That's the one she doesn't want to think about. But she has to because they're staring at her with that _"Tell us more"_ look that won't be going anywhere soon, and they're her parents and there's no way they'll let this drop.)

"That's what Gold said. He didn't believe they were real," replies David. "But Killian insisted they felt like something more than just dreams. I guess we should have listened to him."

"Are—are you sure? What else did he tell you?" Emma asks, wondering if this is still all some sort of bizarre coincidence.

"Not much." David shakes his head. "He just brought up the wardrobe thing because he said you were already going there. Did he say anything to you in the dreams that might help?"

Emma swallowed and shifted her weight, trying to regain her equilibrium. "He said you were using Jefferson's hat."

David nods, his smile growing. "Yes. That's how I got here."

_Oh God_. What does it mean? What does any of this mean? There's one last way she can know for certain that the dreams are real. "Did he—did he ever tell you who he was, back before the curse?"

Emma doesn't know what she wants to hear—proof that the dreams are true and she's been falling for Captain freaking Hook for the past three months, or proof that they are false and Killian is just a simple naval officer like he claimed (but he also said it was more complicated than that, she reminds herself. He said that wasn't the whole story). She doesn't know which option will make her happier—or what either would even mean. Has her subconscious been telling her that Killian loves her because that's what she really wants (because a part of her wants to feel the same way in return), or has Killian been appearing to her in her sleep because of some sort of magic that she can't understand or make any sense of? (Why him? Why now? Why…?)

David nods, looking a little more serious. "He did. He wanted to prove to me that he was worthy of my trust, so he told me everything. He did start out as a naval officer, like he told you. But for a long time before the curse he was something else. A pirate. He was…" David pauses for dramatic emphasis, but Emma already knows exactly what he's going to say.

"Captain Hook," she says softly.

David nods. "Yes. So he told you—in one of the dreams?"

"Yeah. He did." Emma's legs feel weak and she moves to sit down in the chair she's been gripping. She closes her eyes and rubs her face. Subconscious desires she could have understood—but magic? Nope. Not a clue.

"Emma—you've really been dreaming of him? Talking to him?" Mary Margaret asks, her eyes narrowed.

"Every night since we got here," Emma admits, silently wondering whether it's more embarrassing to tell her parents that she's been having vivid dreams every night about the guy she may or may not still be dating, or to tell them she has a mysterious magical connection with that same guy that somehow transcends realms. God, she's getting a headache.

She closes her eyes again, but her parents keep talking.

"This is amazing! Communicating across realms is rare and difficult," Mary Margaret says. "Emma—this can only mean one thing. I know how this is happening."

Emma sighs and looks up at Mary Margaret—at the excitement shining in her eyes—and she has a sinking feeling in her gut. "How?"

Mary Margaret beams at her. "Killian is your True Love! That has to be it!"

Emma's jaw drops.

"Your mother might be right." David nods. "True Love is the most powerful magic known to exist. If anything can cross realms, it's True Love. And I've seen with my own eyes how devoted Killian is to you. In spite of his dark past, I know he's a good man. He'll be good to you."

This is all too much. _Yes_ , she has feelings for Killian. Strong ones. But those were for the Killian she knew before breaking the curse. Not for whomever he might be now. She jumps to her feet, holding her hands out in front of her. "Whoa. Slow down. You don't know any of this for certain—it's all just a guess."

"Well, we do know a little more about magic than you do," Mary Margaret says in that maternal tone that Emma still isn't used to.

It pushes her right over the edge. "No! No! My _True Love_ is not some pirate from a kids' story. We've only been friends for three months! We were only dating for a week!"

David shakes his head slowly. "You don't have to know someone for very long to know that they're your True Love." He gives Mary Margaret a meaningful look.

"True Love is for fairytales," Emma retorts. "People like me don't get True Love! I don't even know what it is!" 

Both of them gape at her like she's slapped them in the face. Emma wants the floor to open up and swallow her. Anything to end what has to be the most awkward conversation of her life. She can't stand here talking about True Love. She just _can't_. She was ready to take a leap of faith with Killian. She was ready to open her heart to him. She was ready to fall in love. But then the curse broke and he lied to her and she's _not sure she even knows who he is anymore_ —no matter what they might have shared in those dreams. That's not True Love. How can it be?

She blinks back the tears rising in her eyes and looks around the room. The nursery. _Her_ nursery.

The remains of toys and finely crafted furniture litter the floor. A dingy mobile of tiny glass unicorns still hangs from the ceiling, and tattered murals decorate the walls. They made this for her. The two of them—together. Because they wanted her. They were supposed to be a family.

Emma shakes her head. "Maybe if I'd had the life you wanted to give me, I'd be someone who could have True Love. But I'm not. This isn't how I grew up. This isn't who I am. I'm sorry."

She can see the pain on both of their faces, but there's nothing she can do about that right now.

"Emma…" says Mary Margaret softly.

Emma shakes her head. "David, you must have come here with some sort of plan for getting us home. How about you tell us what it is?"

David's lips are tight as he nods. He seems to understand that Emma desperately needs a change of topic right now. "You're right. I do have a plan. We've been working with Gold—"

"You can't trust him," Emma says instinctively. Not after what he did to her and Killian. She can still see that pool of blood spreading on the pavement when she closes her eyes. She can still hear the wraith's screech.

"I know," replies David. "But we have it under control. Before magic came to Storybrooke, Killian came into possession of an enchanted object that gives him the power to control the Dark One. Gold has no choice but to follow his orders."

Mary Margaret's brows knit. "That seems awfully convenient. How did that happen?"

"Well, I guess Killian was looking for that object for a very long time. He spent three hundred years focused on getting vengeance against the Dark One for murdering his first love."

Emma ignores the awkward way David's eyes dart away from her as shock overwhelms her. "My boyfriend is three hundred years old?"

David shrugs. "Well, he did spend most of it in Neverland. No one ages in Neverland."

Emma nods incredulously. "Of course. Naturally. That explains everything. Oh my God." She covers her face in her hands again. What the hell is her life? (And a part of her mind remembers a name— _Milah_ —emblazoned on his arm, and the false memory he held to explain it. Now she knows the truth.)

David coughs a few times. "Uh… in any case, we have Gold helping us. We couldn't use the hat to go both ways for—complicated reasons. So the hat got me here, and Gold came up with another way to get us back. It just takes a few ingredients."

Good. Back to the plan. Emma can handle plans. She can't handle three-hundred-year-old storybook pirates who might possibly be her True Love, but she can handle plans. "What ingredients?"

"The first is this wardrobe," says David, pointing at the cabinet that appears to have been crafted out of a single massive tree trunk. "We need to burn it and collect some of the ashes. That the first ingredient. The second is the waters of Lake Nostos."

"But Lake Nostos is gone," says Mary Margaret, frowning. "Nothing is left. We saw it ourselves."

David shakes his head. "According to Gold the waters are just hidden underground. He gave me a potion that will bring them back to the surface. The waters will revive the magic in the ashes and allow us to open a portal. But the portal won't be as powerful or focused as the original portal through the wardrobe was. That's why we need a third ingredient—an object that binds a person in our group, to a person in Storybrooke."

"Did you bring something with you?" Mary Margaret asks.

"No—but Gold told me where to find exactly what we need. He smuggled some squid ink into his cell in the dwarf mines. Apparently squid ink has powerful magical properties of binding." He looks at Emma. "That's how we got him into the cell in the first place—we bound his powers with squid ink. And then he used the rest of the squid ink to write on a scroll. He…" David pauses, holding Emma's gaze, "…he wrote your name. Over and over."

"That's… creepy," says Emma.

"I agree." David nods. "Gold says he used it as a spell to bind your name in his mind so that when you arrived to break the curse, he would regain his memories. But the binding properties are still in place. If you hold that scroll while we jump through the portal, it should guide us safely back to Storybrooke."

Emma takes a deep breath. She still has no clue about all this magic stuff, but this plan is way better than anything Mary Margaret could come up with. "Okay. Where do we start?"

"First we burn this wardrobe," says David. "And I suggest we make camp here in the shelter of the castle for the night. In the morning we can set out for the dwarf mines."

"Sounds good to me," replies Emma.

"And we also need to keep on the alert for the witch, Cora. Gold and Killian seem to think that she's on the loose here in the Enchanted Forest, and that she'd be quick to interfere with our plans," David adds.

Mary Margaret shakes her head. "We ran into Cora. She didn't seem to pose much of a threat. It seemed as if she's lost her powers."

David grins. "Well—that is a bit of good news. And we can use all the good news we can get."

They set to work clearing a space on the stone floor around the wardrobe to prevent the fire from spreading, and use a few swords and axes that David salvages from other parts of the castle to break the wardrobe into smaller chunks before finally setting alight. 

Emma can see the raw emotion on her parents' faces as they watch the wardrobe burn—the vessel that took their hopes of a family from them, but also provided a savior for the entire realm.

She bites her bottom lip and looks away. She remembers with perfect clarity how it felt to hear Henry cry for the first time in the delivery room, and how devastating it was to see the nurse carry him away. She wanted to give him his best chance. Her parents thought they were doing the same.

Maybe this would finally be a second chance for all of them.

_Even for a three-hundred year old pirate_. Her chest feels tight and she slips her hand into her pocket to grip Killian's insignia.

Thinking about it now, as she watches the fire, she knows how much she wanted to love him. She wanted it to be real—she'd let herself believe that she'd found the dream. She had her son back, and she'd found Killian, and she'd wanted to be a family with them. Just the three of them.

Well—she has a family now. Just not the one she'd been hoping for.

Can she really go back to falling in love with a man who isn't who she thought he was? In the dreams she'd felt as if she could. But she hadn't thought they were real. She doesn't know anything about this world—or about magic. Her parents can't be right, can they? Is this really some sort of True Love magic? And if it is, is she ready to accept that—to accept _him_ —into her life? She feels as if she's being backed into a corner, and it's hard to catch her breath.

She squeezes the insignia a little tighter as a sudden thought strikes her. _The insignia_. She's been holding it every night while she sleeps.

That has to be it. There's no True Love magic at work. The insignia must be enchanted. That's what's connecting her to Killian. True Love has nothing to do with it. And she knows how to prove it.

She pulls the insignia out of her pocket and tucks it underneath a dusty old teddy bear on the floor nearby. She leaves it there when she settles down for the night.

With the embers of the wardrobe still smoldering, she falls asleep.

~ ~ ~ 

Killian sees a flash of blonde hair ahead of him in the dank gray mist. "Emma!" he calls. "Emma!"

But she runs away from him, deeper into the fog that envelops the landscape. He can hear movement—the crunch of boots on hard ground. Faint whispers in the heavy air. But he can't see anything more than a few feet in front of him. "Emma? Where are you?"

"Killian?" he hears a faint reply.

He turns and jogs in that direction, but his toes catch on unseen obstacles and he stumbles, grunting.

"Killian? Are you alright?" he hears her call from nearby.

"Stay where you are," he calls back. "Don't move. Just keep talking. I'll find you." He starts moving again.

"Killian—I'm confused. I don't know what to do." She sounds even closer.

He moves carefully and deliberately. He doesn't want to stumble again. "Just keep talking," he says.

"I don't know what I want," she says.

"Emma—I'm right here. I'm coming." He takes a few more steps toward the sound of her voice, and her figure takes shape in the gloom of the fog. He quickens his pace and a few steps later the features of her face are visible.

He smiles.

She blinks at him, her mouth slightly open. She looks troubled. 

"Emma," he says.

"Killian." She takes a single step toward him and meets his eyes, her tongue darting out to lick her lips. "How can I love a man I don't even know?"

His heart aches at the fear and uncertainty in her voice. He shakes his head. "Real love is a choice, Emma. You feel it—and then you _choose_ it. That's what makes it true."

Her brow furrows as she stares at him, and she opens her mouth as if to speak, but then fades into the mist.

Killian wakes gasping, covered in a cold sweat. It's not yet five in the morning, but he knows he'll not get back to sleep. Not after this.

After a shower he spends the morning reading until it's time to get Henry ready for school. And once Henry is at school the reality of his new position in town begins to sink in. Now that David is gone, he is the one people turn to for leadership.

When the dwarves break through a wall in the mines and discover a cache of magical diamonds, he's the one they report to. When Ruby and Granny close the restaurant just after lunch in order to fortify a storage room for "wolf's time," he's the one they inform (and he promptly takes it upon himself to have Gold magically reinforce the structure, just to be sure). A string of other petty issues come his way over the course of the day.

He gets a short respite with Henry when he picks the lad up from school and takes him to survey the progress on his ship.

Connor is happy to report that nearly all the electrical wiring has been ripped out, and the last of the museum placards is gone. Soon they'll be ready to start work on the parts of the ship needed for proper sailing.

"I can't wait until she's ready," says Henry, staring up at the rigging.

The sails will need to be tested to make sure they can hold up to a proper voyage, but Killian is thrilled by the progress everywhere else. "Me neither," he says. "There's nothing like the feeling of the wind in your hair as you stand at the helm of a ship. I'll have to teach you how to steer her properly and then let you have a turn."

A grin lights up the lad's face.

"But we'll have to get your mum's permission, first," Killian adds with a wink. He needs to reassure himself as much as Henry that Emma will be home soon.

A short while later he drops Henry off with Johanna so that he can return to his work. He manages to sort out a dispute between two men—one is now a real estate agent and the other manages the sporting goods store, but back in the enchanted forest they were partners in a flour mill and apparently the realtor owed the store manager a great deal of money. It takes him nearly an hour to convince them to agree that in this, the land of second chances, all old debts are cancelled. They're much quicker to agree never to do business together again.

Not long after they leave, Regina storms into his office with no warning.

She scowls at him in a way that makes him reflexively rise to his feet, assuming a defensive stance.

"Do you honestly think that I'm going to let you take custody of my son while David is off gallivanting in the Enchanted Forest?" she says.

Killian forces a smirk onto his face. "I'm fine, thanks. And how are you?"

Her scowl deepens and she slams her palms down on the desk that sits between them. "I left him with David because David is his grandfather. But you—you're…" She smirks and straightens up, crossing her arms over her chest. "You're nothing."

Killian grits his teeth. "This is just a short term arrangement, Regina. David will be back with Emma and Mary Margaret within two or three day's time."

A dangerous light burns in Regina's eyes and her nostrils flare. "With my mother on the loose, you'll be lucky if any of them ever return."

"Have a little faith, my lady."

"In what?" she snaps. "That the woman who took my son from me will be back soon? No. Thank you."

If anyone can interfere with Emma's return, it's Regina. Killian needs to find a way to pacify her. "Regina—your life will never go back to what it was before, whether Emma returns or not. You know that, don't you?"

She squeezes her lips together. "Of course I do. I'm not an imbecile."

Killian takes a deep breath. "I know I have no legal right to your son, and I have no intention of keeping him from you. But he's not ready to go home to you. Not until he's seen some signs of meaningful change. He hasn't forgiven you for what happened to Emma and Mary Margaret, nor do I expect him to anytime soon."

For a moment a mask of sorrow passes over Regina's eyes. "I've begun seeing Dr. Hopper. He's helping me work toward positive change. I'm trying to give up using my magic to solve my problems. He says I need to learn more constructive and lasting methods of problem solving in order to bring about more meaningful change." Her voice is soft and humble, and Killian thinks he sees real regret and real desire for change in her expression. But then her eyes harden again and she looks back up to meet his gaze. "But I will not surrender custody of my son to a man that is in no way related to him. If Emma isn't back in forty-eight hours, I'm taking my son home. Is that clear?"

Killian nods. "Perfectly. But if Emma fails to return, Henry might not be very eager to return to your care. You need to prepare yourself for that."

Regina leans forward again. "I'll take him by force if I have to."

"I like to see you try," Killian replies, his voice low. He doesn't want to reveal his hand by calling on Gold too soon, but he will if he has to. He suspects that Regina is still no match for the Dark One.

With a final glare Regina swoops out of his office.

Forty-eight hours. Now he has a deadline.

Killian sits back down and bows his head in quiet prayer for Emma and her parents. God's hand may not reach into that realm, but if it does, Killian intends to plead for any help He can offer them.

~ ~ ~

The insignia is tucked back in Emma's jacket pocket as they hike toward the dwarf mines. Her experiment wasn't exactly successful.

The dream didn't feel like any of the others had. It was more surreal—less vivid—more distinctly "dream like." 

But Killian had still been there. His final words still rang in her ears hours later. _"Real love is a choice, Emma. You feel it—and then you_ choose _it. That's what makes it true."_

She feels it. She feels it every time she remembers his face—every time she thinks back on the friendship they've shared—every time she recalls the way his lips felt moving against hers and the warm energy that surged through her when their bodies pressed together. But is she ready to choose it? That's a much bigger deal.

And this really isn't something she should be thinking about while her parents are trying to regale her with stories about the antics of the various seven dwarves (most of whom she apparently knows as the gang of excessively short men who live in Storybrooke).

No. What she really needs is to focus on the mission at hand. She needs to get home to Henry and sort things out with Regina (if there's any way to sort that mess out), take custody of her son, and start her new life. That's what she needs to do. If she can find time to work things out with Killian in the middle of that, then, well, maybe that's what she'll do. But she won't let fantasies of True Love get in the way of getting back to her son.

They don't reach the dwarf mines until after dusk, and David lights a few torches to light their way.

"I suggest we find the scroll, and then make camp here for the night," he says. "Lake Nostos is a half-day's journey from here. We can leave at first light."

Emma nods. She'll leave the journey-planning to the experts. Whatever it takes to get her home.

After a few minutes of wandering through the twists and turns of the underground corridors, they come to a dead-end enclosed by some rather wicked-looking gates held open by a rope and winch. Rumplestiltskin's cell.

Mary Margaret pauses beside Emma, raising her torch. "This is where he told us you were going to be the savior."

Emma frowns in surprise. "He knew?"

"It was prophesized. Come on." She moves forward, but Emma still hangs back, her mind troubled.

She's starting to feel just like she did that night August took her to the place she was abandoned—when he tried to dump the weight of the realm on her shoulders. Her whole life was planned out by someone else. She feels like she's never been more than someone's puppet. When does it end? When does she get to choose for herself?

They walk into the cell and start poking through all of the many dark nooks and crannies. Somewhere in here is the scroll that will guide them home. "I don't see it anywhere," says Emma, her frustration mounting as she finds nothing but dust, dust, and more dust.

"Perhaps I can help?"

Emma jumps and spins in shock, her parents doing the same beside her. Her eyes go wide as Mary Margaret cries, "Lancelot!"

 

The knight strides toward them with a wide grin on his face and David steps forward to embrace him.

"Well met, old friend," says David.

"How did you find us?" asks Mary Margaret.

"I got word of your disappointment at the Dark One's castle, so I thought I'd find you to see if I could offer my assistance." 

Emma narrows her eyes. Lancelot seems nice enough, but his timing is damn suspicious.

She listens as David tells him their plan, but a tight knot forms in her chest when David pulls out the ashes and shows them to Lancelot.

Lancelot reaches out to take the ashes and weighs them in his hand. "So this little bag of soot is the key to getting to your world."

Something in his voice sets off all of Emma's alarms, and she starts toward him. "Hey—"

But before she reaches him he's already shoved David to the ground and darted out of the cell, pulling a lever. The wicked-looking bars slam closed, trapping Emma and her parents inside, while Lancelot bounces the bag of ashes in his hand and smirks. Emma's heart feels like it's crumbling to dust inside her chest.

"Why?" cries Mary Margaret, grabbing the bars.

In a puff of smoke Lancelot disappears and Cora stands in his place. "I have to thank you," she says. "You've made the task of finding my daughter so much simpler. Now I have everything I need to find her in Storybrooke."

"What have you done with Lancelot?" David demands.

"Him? Oh, I killed him long ago," replies Cora with a smirk. She shakes her head slowly. "Your type is easy to play. You're all so honorable and trusting. Now, enjoy your stay. I expect it won't last more than a week—your supplies won't last long."

She spins and saunters away.

"No! No!" Emma screams. This can't be the end. She can't be trapped here. Not when they're so close. Henry needs her.

She pulls out her sword and starts beating on the bars.

"It won't do any good, Emma," says David.

"The cell was enchanted to hold Rumplestiltskin," adds Mary Margaret. She slumps against the wall, a crushed look on her face. "There's no way out."

tbc


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about the long break – I needed to deal with some personal health issues. But now I'm back with a nice long chapter! (And I've made a good start on the next chapter, too, so you can count on an update next week.) As usual - disclaimer: a few lines of dialog were borrowed from the show; none of it belongs to me, etc.

Emma slumps to the ground. This can't be it. This can't be the end.

She rests her face in her hands and fights back tears.

"It might not be too late," she hears David saying. "She only took the ashes. I still have the potion to revive Lake Nostos and the scroll is still hidden somewhere in this cell. If we can get out, maybe we can go back for more ashes. Or find something else that will trigger a portal. We can't give up, yet."

"In either case, Cora will beat us there," replies Mary Margaret. "She's a powerful enchantress. I'm sure she has no need of potions or scrolls to make the ashes work again. Imagine the havoc she'll wreak in Storybrooke. We have to find a way to stop her."

Emma shakes her head and bites her lip. It doesn't matter. None of it matters anymore. "This is all my fault," she murmurs. She knew not to trust Lancelot. She should have trusted her instincts. "I'm supposed to be the savior, but I'm not doing much saving, am I?"

Mary Margaret comes to sit beside her. "We're going to win this fight, you know. Good always defeats evil."

"You sound like Henry," replies Emma, her heart sinking like a rock in her chest.

"I guess optimism runs in the family."

"I think it skipped a generation," Emma mutters.

"No. You should know better than anybody," says Mary Margaret. "You broke the curse."

That's not enough. Why can't Mary Margaret see that? "What've I done since then? I got us stranded over here, followed you around like a clueless puppy until David showed up with a plan, and now Cora has the ashes. The only reason I ever broke the curse was because it was exactly what Gold wanted me to do. I had nothing to do with it."

"What are you talking about?" David asks, crouching nearby, a concerned look on his face.

"He told you I was the savior—it was his plan," replies Emma, her heart sinking ever lower. "Once I fulfilled that role maybe that was all I was ever meant to do. Everything I've ever done, he had it all mapped out before I was even born." She shakes her head. "I'm not powerful. I'm not the savior. I'm just a pawn. And that's exactly why we're in here and Cora's on her way to Storybrooke."

Her parents try to bolster her spirits for a few more minutes, but nothing they say sinks in. None of it changes the fact that she's never going to see her son again. That she failed him.

She closes her eyes and feigns sleep while her parents go back to searching for the scroll—not that it'll do them any good, now. What's the point?

Reflexively she slips her hand into her pocket and clutches at the insignia. Her dreams of Killian have been the only things giving her real hope these past few days, but now even those feel like lies. 

It all makes sense, now—why Gold shot Killian outside the library. Why he taunted her to give her lover a kiss goodbye. It had all been a part of his master plan to break the curse. Somehow Gold must have arranged for her and Killian to fall for each other. That was his plan—he'd deliberately set them up to share True Love's Kiss.

Even in her love life she's been nothing more than a pawn. Both of them have been. For a terrifying moment she considers the possibility that Killian was working with Gold along, but then dismisses it. No. The animosity between Killian and Gold was real— _is_ real, according to what David says. Killian had been just as much a dupe in all this as she was. So what if she still has feelings for him? How can any love that grew out of someone's evil manipulations be true?

She feels a tear sliding down her cheek as she squeezes the insignia.

"Emma—wake up." Killian's voice rings loud in her ears.

She blinks and her body jolts awake. She's lying on the ground beside the old wishing well in Storybrooke, and Killian is crouched over her.

"Emma—I'd barely closed my eyes for the night when I found you here. Something feels wrong. What's going on?" he asks.

Emma sits up and rubs her aching head. "Everything. Everything is wrong. Cora took the ashes and locked us in Rumplestiltskin's cell. We're trapped. Henry needs me, but I'm stuck. I'm going to die here."

She sees his eyes go wide and hears his breath catch in his throat. "No. Don't say that. You'll find a way out."

She shakes her head. "I'm so sick of all this stupid optimism. Why bother having hope when it's only going to leave you more miserable?"

Killian frowns. "This isn't the end, Emma. I refuse to believe it."

"Why? Why? Because you want me? Because you _love_ me?" Emma's voice breaks. "None of it's real, you know. We were never more than tools in Gold's plan. He was just using us to break his curse."

"No," Killian says, his face hard and flushed. He shakes his head. "You've always been so much more than that. He wanted me to kiss you—he told me to break the curse. But I wouldn't. Because I knew you had the power in you to save us all without me forcing my affections on you. And you _did_ , Emma. You have no idea how extraordinary you really are. I was lost in the darkness for three-hundred years until I found you and began to hope again. You can't tell me that was Gold's doing because it wasn't. It was _you_."

Her chest aches and she can't meet his gaze. It's too much.

"Emma—I know things seem bleak right now. But you're not alone. You have your parents. And you have me. You'll find a way. I know you will. I believe." His words pound against her with the intensity of a thunderstorm, just like they did outside the library, when she thought all chances of saving Henry were lost.

How does he do this? How does he hold onto hope when there's no reason to? Emma can't understand.

She lifts her eyes to meet his, and what she sees there shakes her to the depth of her soul.

_Why does he love me? Why does he believe in me? Why would anyone love someone like me?_

"My heart is with you, Emma," he says. "You can do this. I have faith."

She feels a hand on her shoulder and starts awake with a gasp.

David pulls his hand back, a startled look on his face. "Sorry—I didn't mean to frighten you," he says. "We just wanted you to know that we found the scroll."

He holds out the weathered roll of paper. Emma takes it, slowly pulling it open. Just as he said, the scroll is covered in endless repetitions of her name. Further proof that she was never more than a piece in Gold's elaborate game.

_But what if Killian is right? What if I'm something more? What if he and I can be something more?_

She swallows hard, studying it. "What now?"

"Now we find a way out," David replies, his face grim and set.

Emma continues to study the scroll as if expecting to find some hidden secret for close to an hour while her parents fiddle with the bars, looking for a weakness. 

Eventually Mary Margaret sits down beside her and holds out her hand. Emma passes her the scroll. Maybe she'll see something that Emma didn't.

After just a few minutes she says, "We are going to get out of here."

"How?" Emma asks. "It's not like that scroll is going to magically open the door for us."

Mary Margaret smiles. How can she smile? "Yes it is." She rises to her feet, leaving Emma more puzzled than ever.

Emma and David follow her as she moves toward the bars, telling them of Cora's old spell-book. "The spells were in the book," she says as if it's some sort of revelation.

Emma frowns. "Yeah. Isn't that what a spell book is? A book that has spells in it?"

"Watch," says Mary Margaret. She lifts the scroll to her face and blows against the words. Magically the ink lifts off of the paper and floats toward the bars. Emma's eyes go wide. As the ink hits the bars, they fizzle and dissolve.

"You did it!" says David, rubbing Mary Margaret's shoulder. "The squid ink! It was powerful enough to set us free."

"I told you," says Mary Margaret, meeting Emma's eyes. "Good always wins."

A small hope blossoms in Emma's heart. Maybe her mother is right. Maybe _Killian_ was right.

"Now we just need to stop Cora, and hope that she has some means of guiding us through the portal now that the scroll is useless," says David.

Emma smiles and nods, suddenly believing that they just might pull it off.

~ ~ ~

Though it's still a few hours until dawn, Killian pounds on Gold's door until the man answers.

Gold has deep circles under his eyes and looks exhausted, but he's already dressed. Killian doesn't stop to ponder what Gold is doing at this hour—he has more pressing concerns.

"I think something is wrong with Emma. I need the hat. I need to go after them." He knows how irrational he sounds, but he can't help himself. Logic might tell him that his dream was just a dream, but his heart tells him the opposite, and right now—after all he's been through the past two weeks—he knows which of the two he trusts more.

"Don't be hasty, Father," says Gold, sounding grumpy and weary. "Let me guess—another bad dream?"

Killian nods, stepping into Gold's foyer. "Yes. Emma said that Cora stole the ashes from them and trapped them in your old cell. Cora's on the way to Storybrooke, and Emma and her parents are stuck. I need to get to them. Now."

Gold's eyes narrow. "Are you so sure you trust those dreams?"

Killian takes a deep breath and squeezes his eyes shut for a moment. He knows nothing of magic. He's used it when it was offered to him, but he has no understanding of the actual workings of it. But those dreams—they feel like magic to him. He opens his eyes and nods, meeting Gold's gaze. "I do. They're more than just dreams, Gold. I know it in my gut."

"Hmmm." Gold nods thoughtfully. "While I confess that I'm still skeptical, the details of your dream strike me as exactly the sort of plan Cora would carry out. Where exactly was Miss Swan when you spoke to her?"

"At the old wishing well in the woods. Why does that matter?" Gold needs to stop wasting time with pointless questions and get him the damn hat.

Gold shakes his head. "Just a curiosity. The wishing well is the focal point of all magic here in Storybrooke. Interesting that Emma would appear to you there. It gives your story a tad more credibility."

"You still don't believe me," Killian says, a grim note in his voice. It seems he'll have to start issuing commands.

"Maybe I do, maybe I don't," replies Gold. "Either way, getting them out of that cell is the least of our concerns."

Killian's eyes narrow. "What do you mean?"

"It's simple enough," Rumple gestures impatiently. "The means of escaping the cell is trapped inside with them, and even the prince and princess are clever enough to figure it out before they perish. They'll still find their way home. Cora, on the other hand, could be a serious problem. If she really is coming, as you say."

"I've had my own dealings with Cora. I know how dangerous she can be." Killian frowns. Is he overreacting? Is Gold right, and his dreams are just wistful fantasies? Or, in this case, nightmares? He shakes his head. Until proven otherwise he needs to treat them as true. It's the only prudent move.

Gold perches on the arm of his sofa and taps his knee. "As the self-appointed leader of our little town at the moment, don't you think you ought to be more concerned with protecting us from Cora's imminent arrival than with rushing off to rescue your princess?"

Killian clenches his teeth and looks away. Gold is right again. Emma would never forgive him if harm came to Henry, and he doubts David would ever forgive him if serious harm came to the town.

"I'd certainly be happy to step up and assume the role of town protector, if you'd return my dagger."

Killian snaps his gaze back to Gold and shakes his head. "Not a chance. I'll not be fooled so easily."

"Then perhaps Belle—"

"No," Killian cuts him off before he can finish. He can't leave the dagger with someone Gold could manipulate or trick. Even Killian isn't immune to Gold's machinations. He won't trust anyone else in the town with this task. He looks away again and curses under his breath. Ruby isn't an option—there are two more nights of wolf's time. None of the deacons or administrative staff at his church have enough connections to be accepted as a leader, nor does he trust them to control Gold. Dr. Hopper is a possibility, but Killian fears that he won't have the backbone to stand up to Regina or give life and death commands to Gold. He curses again.

"The full depth of the situation finally sinking in, is it?" Gold asks.

Killian closes his eyes and takes a deep breath before meeting Gold's gaze again. "I'll wait one more day. I need to be here. You're right. We need to prepare for Cora—just in case."

Gold nods, his face grim. He rises to his feet. "At least you're coming to your senses on that point. However, if you're still unwilling to return the dagger to me, my abilities are hobbled by your commands. I need a freer hand. You've no idea what kinds of spells will be necessary to protect this town from Cora's malevolence, and I haven't the time to explain them all to you. Give me the leeway I need to protect us all. I have no more desire to face Cora at her full strength than you do."

This might be a trap. It might be Gold trying to manipulate Killian into giving him more freedom than he ought to. But Killian can't afford to play it safe. Not with Cora on way. He ponders the wording for a few moments before speaking. "Dark One—you may use whatever spells you deem necessary for the protection of this town and all its inhabitants, provided that you harm none of them in the process."

Gold scowls but nods. "That'll have to do, I suppose. You should go back to tend the boy—I assume you're still looking after him?"

Killian nods, feeling guilty that he left Henry alone asleep. He'd intended to call Johanna to tend him before doing any realm-hopping, but now that he's more fully awake he can see how foolish and hasty his plans were. "Should I spread an alarm?"

"Not yet. No point in getting the rabble agitated when we're not sure if Cora's really coming. In any case, it'll be easier for me to establish protective spells without panicked citizens in the way."

Killian isn't entirely comfortable with the resolution of his meeting, but he has little choice but to let Gold step forward to act. If anyone can protect the town, it's him. Still, a worried knot grows in his stomach as he heads home to Henry. He has a dark feeling that he'll regret his actions this morning. Only time will tell.

~ ~ ~

The sun is well above the horizon when David announces that they're getting close to Lake Nostos, and though they've been hiking for hours they've still seen no sign of Cora. Emma rubs the insignia in her pocket again, silently hoping that they've somehow managed to beat Cora to the lake, rather than missing her because she poofed there in a cloud of smoke.

She tries to reassure herself that Henry will be safe—he's with Killian, and Killian has control over Gold and his formidable powers. That has to be enough to keep her son safe—right? She hopes that never has to be tested.

David signals for them to move into the trees and slow down as they pass over the final hill before reaching the lake.

They peer out from behind trees. All that Emma sees is a rather barren looking expanse of sand dotted with a few weeds and… are those bones?

"We beat her here!" says Mary Margaret in a soft, excited voice.

"It looks that way," David replies. "She must have had other supplies to gather. I say we set a watch over both the lake and road, and ambush her when she arrives. Have your bow ready to catch her before she sees us, Snow."

Emma swallows hard at the thought of her mother shooting an actually person with one of those arrows. But if that's what it takes to get back to Henry—well—that's what it takes.

Mary Margaret takes up a position behind some bushes overlooking the road, while Emma positions herself to watch the lake. David takes a spot in between.

Emma lets her mind wander as they wait. The first thing she's going to do when they get home is give Henry the biggest hug of his life. And then she'd going to Granny's for a real meal. And then home for shower—oh God, does she need a shower. And then Killian—she needs to figure out what she wants to do about Killian (something between the extremes of leaping straight into his bed and telling him they'll never be more than friends—she simply isn't sure where on that spectrum she wants to end up). 

Before all this fairy tale business got in the way she was starting to feel things for him—things that felt a lot like love. Even now, after what they've shared in the dreams over the past week, those feelings are an anchor she's eager to cling to again. But she still doesn't know who he really is. She felt ready to love Father Killian Jones, but will she feel the same about Captain Hook?

She flips the insignia idly in her fingers, wondering yet again if it holds some enchantment that made the dreams possible (she's not ready to accept her parents' theory, yet).

Movement in the barren valley that was once a lake catches her eye and she shoves the insignia back in her pocket and tosses a pebble at David to draw his attention.

In a swirl of smoke Cora appears in the center of the lake-bed. She's not alone. A tall, burly man with long, curly dark hair stands beside her, holding two large trunks under his arms. Cora has a toady.

Emma glances in Mary Margaret's direction, and sees her repositioning, her bow drawn, to aim at Cora. Emma holds her breath. Will Mary Margaret actually go through with it? She's seen her slay ogres, but never another human being, no matter how villainous.

The arrow flies with a twang, but Cora casually swipes it aside with a flourish of purple magic. 

Emma winces as Cora's magically amplified voice fills the air.

"Did you really think I wouldn't notice you lurking there? I've been working toward this far too long to be brought down by carelessness. I've even prepared a special going away gift for you."

Emma frowns. Whatever Cora has in mind, it can't be good.

David and Mary Margaret scramble to Emma's side and she watches Cora draw something red and glowing out of a pouch at her side.

"It's his heart," David says, a disgusted tone in his voice.

"His what?" Emma gapes.

"Practitioners of dark magic like Cora and Regina can remove hearts from peoples' chests. It allows them to control those whose hearts they hold—or to kill them," says Mary Margaret grimly.

Emma swallows, her eyes wide, as Cora holds up the heart in front of her hefty porter and murmurs something they can't hear.

"We need to strike before she does whatever she's planning," says David.

"I agree." Mary Margaret nods. "Let's go."

Emma grips her sword and follows her parents as they dash out of the trees and down the slope, but skids to a sudden halt when Cora forcefully shoves the heart back into the chest of her porter and he starts growing. Not a normal kind of growing—more of a sudden swelling.

Emma's eyes follow him as he gets bigger, and bigger, and bigger.

"What the hell?"

Her parents also stop charging to stare at this new threat. After a moment he stops growing, not that it matters. He towers taller than a three story building.

"Oh shit," Emma mutters.

The giant glares at them and points a finger right at David. "You!" he bellows, and stomps toward them.

"Run!" David shouts.

Emma doesn’t need any encouragement. She turns and dashes back up the slope, with Cora's parting words echoing in the air behind her.

"Enjoy my gift."

~ ~ ~

Over breakfast with Henry, Killian thinks long and hard about what to share with the boy. Would telling him about the dreams give him false hope? Or will it inspire him?

This is an instance in which Killian has no idea what the right choice is. Finally he lets himself think back on his own far-distant childhood. If he'd been in Henry's position, he'd have wanted to know all the facts, whether they worked out for the best in the end or not.

After breakfast, Killian sits down with Henry and confesses the truth—minus the more overtly romantic details.

The lad's eyes are wide with wonder. "Do you really think the dreams are real?"

"I didn't, at first," Killian admits. "But with every passing night they've felt more real—more magical. And my dream early this morning had an urgency to it that seemed to demand my attention."

"What happened?" Henry asks.

"Your mother said she and your grandparents are in trouble—and she warned me of something. The sorceress Cora is trying to get to Storybrooke." Killian lays the full truth bare. Henry needs to be prepared to defend himself.

"No! Regina's mom?"

"She's in your book?"

Henry nods in agreement. "She's not a good person."

Killian can't help but smile. "That's the understatement of the year."

"We need to warn my mom," says Henry. "She can help."

Killian clenches his teeth and takes a deep breath. He's not eager to draw Regina into this, but it might be a good idea to have someone checking up on Gold. After a moment he nods. "Alright. Let's go visit your mum."

On impulse he stops in his bedroom to grab his old captain's hook. He wraps the hook and cuff in a t-shirt and shoves them in the glove box of his car. If Cora is truly coming, he likes the idea of having an enchanted weapon on hand. The spell for the removal of a heart should still be intact. Surely Cora will have brought her heart along, this time (though he's not entirely sure it will be in her chest). In any case, the hook was always handy in a fight. Now it's close by if he needs it.

Regina's excitement at Henry's unexpected visit quickly dims when Henry announces the purpose of their visit. She shakes her head at Killian's story of dreams.

"That's absurd. There's no way you'd be able to share dreams across realms. It's like something out of a romance novel," she declares disdainfully.

"Gold was skeptical at first, as well," says Killian, "but the threat of your mother coming to Storybrooke was enough incentive for him to begin quietly working on enchantments to protect the town."

"My mother is coming here?" Regina asks, her eyes narrow.

Killian nods. "If my latest dream is correct, that's exactly what she's planning."

Regina clenches her jaw and folds her arms across her chest. She paces away from him before spinning back to face him. "Gold really thinks the threat might be real?"

"He does." Killian nods.

"Mom—you need to help him. We can't let Cora come through and wreck things. We've got to stop her," says Henry.

Killian can see the moisture of unshed tears standing in Regina's eyes as she meets her son's gaze. After a moment she nods. "You're right. We can't risk letting my mother come through a portal with her full powers intact. We have to find a way to bind her or disable her. I need to talk to Gold. Where is he?"

Before Killian has a chance to answer a loud pounding sounds at Regina's door.

She scowls and stalks through the foyer to open it, with Killian and Henry following.

The door opens to reveal Ruby with all the dwarves gathered around her.

"What did you do with those diamonds?" Ruby demands.

"What are you talking about?" says Regina.

Leroy pushes forward, looking ready to throttle Regina. "The fairy-dust diamonds from the mine! Someone snuck down there before our shift this morning and stole them! All of them!"

"Who else in town is capable of that?" Ruby says.

Killian's heart sinks in his chest, even while Regina lifts her chin with an imperious huff. "Well, I had nothing to do with it. I'm trying to give up magic, for Henry's sake."

Before Leroy can launch into another tirade, Killian steps forward to face the music. "It was Gold. I met with him before dawn to talk about a potential threat coming through a portal from the Enchanted Forest. He said he would enact spells around the town to protect us."

Ruby raises her eyebrows. "And you trusted him to do that with screwing us over?"

"I see now that I shouldn't have," Killian admits, shaking his head. He hopes his command to Gold was specific enough, but now that he's more fully awake he's not so sure it was. "We need to find him."

"For once, you and I are in agreement," says Regina. "Knowing Gold, his idea of protecting the town would be to find a way to close the portal in such a manner that anyone who tries to cross through will be killed."

Killian feels bile rising in his throat. This is his fault. This is all his fault.

Henry steps forward, eyes wide. "So if Emma and her parents try to come through, they'll die? We have to stop him."

Killian sees the flicker of hesitation in Regina's eyes. "If my mother comes through that portal, she'll destroy everything I love," she says, meeting her son's eyes. "And that means you, Henry."

Henry shakes his head. "No. You can't let Mr. Gold do this. Emma and her parents will defeat Cora. They'll come through first. Good always defeats evil. You have to stop him."

Regina looks away. Killian can see her reluctance to act—it's a reluctance he understands. But one way or another, they _will_ stop Gold.

Henry steps closer to his mother. "You said you wanted to change. To be better. This is how. You want me to have faith in you? Have faith in me. They're coming through. We have to help them."

Regina hesitates a moment longer, but then nods. "You're right. We do."

~ ~ ~ 

Another tree crashes to the ground under the giant's stomping foot as he continues shouting furious accusations at David—something about killing all his brothers?

Emma scrambles out of his reach again, but the ground is uneven and it's hard to move quickly. Plus, even in the midst of the vicious giant attack, she can't help but think that Cora is stealing their hope of leaving quickly. She just hopes that Killian trusts in their dreams enough to have the town ready for Cora's arrival.

"You'll pay for your evil!" the giant shouts in a booming voice, angling another footfall towards David. "I promise! You'll pay!"

David stumbles just as the giant is about to bring his foot down.

"No!" cries Mary Margaret. Two arrows hit the giant's leg in quick succession. He winces and pulls back, plucking the arrows from his skin. But Emma can tell that they were little worse than hornet stings. The giant is still focused and determined to destroy her father.

Desperate for a diversion, Emma calls, "What did he ever do to you?"

The giant scowls down at her. "He knows what he did. He slaughtered my family!"

"What?!" David stumbles to higher ground, dumbstruck. "I never slaughtered anyone's family."

"Argh!" the giant bellows. "All you humans do is lie and cheat and kill, and I’m sick of it!" He stomps forward again.

Emma's sword shakes in her hand. She knows they won't be able to run from him forever. On this terrain he's sure to outlast them. On impulse she darts toward him, swinging her blade at his leg in an attempt to cripple him.

Her sword barely slices through his pants, leaving only the faintest of scratches on his leg. Crap. Clearly she's watched Lord of the Rings one time too many—and she's no Legolas. As the giant turns his gaze on her, her parents shout her name. She turns to run, but the giant is too fast. His fingers close around her, lifting her into the air, and her sword drops from her fingers as he squeezes the breath out of her.

No. She can't die like this.

"Let go of my daughter!" David shouts, his voice filled with righteous fury.

Emma chokes and squirms, struggling to free herself enough to breath.

"Your daughter?" says the giant. "Perfect. Now you'll finally know the pain of having your family slaughtered before your eyes."

Emma pounds his meaty hand with her fists to no effect. She won't last much longer. _God—if you're out there, please—please help me live through this. Help me get back to my son._

"It wasn't me!" David cries. "It must have been my twin brother—James!"

The giant pauses, loosening his grip just enough for Emma to draw in a gasping breath.

"You're not James?"

"No," says David. "We were separated at birth. He was raised by a ruthless tyrant."

"Where is he?" the giant demands, his fingers squeezing again.

"He paid the ultimate price for his crimes," calls David. "His life!"

"Urrrgh!" The giant lets out a wordless cry of frustration, his grip even tighter. Emma starts to see spots. She can't breathe at all anymore. If only he would just get small again!

A faint white glow shimmers at the corners of her vision.

Almost as soon as the wish crosses her mind, she feels as if she's slowly falling. Her mind comes back into sharper focus as she realizes that the giant's hand no longer circles her whole body—and it's getting smaller by the second. He's shrinking!

A moment later he loses his grip on her altogether, and she plummets a final ten feet to the ground with a painful thud. She rolls away, gasping for breath, but nothing seems to be broken.

David leaps onto the small giant, knocking him to the ground, and Mary Margaret advances, her arrow pointed.

Emma staggers to her feet in time to see David standing over the giant, his sword pointed at the man's throat.

"Do it," says the giant in a low, desperate voice. "Kill me. I have nothing left to live for anyway."

David clenches his jaw and shakes his head. "No. I'm not my brother. I'm not James—and I'm not a killer."

"All humans are killers," says the giant.

"No. We're not," replies David, lowering his sword and backing away.

The shrunken giant sits up with a sullen look on his face.

"We saw how the witch Cora was controlling you," says Mary Margaret. "We saw how she took your heart, and then manipulated you into thinking David was actually his brother. We know you're not a villain. We won't fight you any longer."

The giant struggles to his feet and backs away, shaking his head. "You should have finished me off," he says just above a whisper. "Now I can't even return to my home, in this shrunken state. I have nothing."

Emma bends to pick up her sword, more than half expecting him to attack again, but instead he hangs his head and turns away. An unexpected well of compassion grows in Emma's chest. She steps toward him. "Hey—did you really mean what you said? Did his brother James really kill your family?"

He looks back over his shoulder and nods. "Yes. I am the last of my kind."

Emma recognizes the look on his face. She's seen it in the mirror dozens of times, and on the faces of other foster kids she lived with over the years. He's just as alone and lost as she ever was. She can feel tears pricking the corners of her eyes.

"You don't have to be alone," she says. "I don't know how to make you big again. I can't help you get back to your home. But you can join us in ours. It's a town full of good people who'd be ready and waiting to befriend you. We're on our way right now."

He turns to her with a puzzled expression on his face. "Why? Why should I trust you? Why should I bother hoping for something better?"

Emma takes a deep breath. This is a question she's asked herself many times over the years. And for a long time she didn't have an answer. But now she does. "Because it's better than the alternative. A chance to hope for something better beats going on alone and miserable any day. What's your name?"

"Anton," he says softly.

"Anton," she repeats, nodding. "Come with us. Take a chance."

He glances over at the lakebed.

Emma and the others follow his gaze. A well of water now stands in the center of the lakebed, and Cora is long gone.

Pushing down the pain and fear and frustration, Emma swallows hard. There are more ashes back at the castle. They still have a chance. She only hopes that Killian can use Gold to keep Henry and town safe in the meantime.

"It's too late to stop the witch," he says. "Was that your way home?"

"It was," answers David. "But we have another way. It'll just take a little more time to gather a key ingredient and then return here to the lake. The water here can restore magic to the ashes of a magic tree, and that will open a portal for us."

Anton frowns, but not in a threatening way. "People in your town would really want me around?"

"The whole town is full of misfits and lost souls just looking for a place to call home," says Mary Margaret with a soft smile. "I think you'd fit right in."

Emma nods in agreement.

Anton meets her eyes and nods back. "Will this water restore magic to other objects, or just your ashes?"

"I expect it would work on anything that was once alive," replies David.

Anton looks thoughtful. "I think I have a faster way to your home." He reaches into his tunic, and pulls out a pendant. Affixed to it is a shriveled black bean.

~ ~ ~

Killian tosses Regina his keys as they stride toward his car. "You drive."

She raises her eyebrows. "Where are we going?"

"This morning Gold told me that the old wishing well is the focus of all magic here in Storybrooke. If he's gone anywhere to block a portal, it's there."

Regina asks no more questions, sliding smoothly into the driver's seat as Killian takes shotgun and Henry climbs into the back.

As they drive Killian pulls off his jacket and takes off his modern prosthetic. He pulls his old cuff and hook from the glove box.

He's been too compassionate toward Gold. Too lenient. Too forgiving. Too much the priest and not enough the pirate. But if Gold truly means to sacrifice Emma and her parents in order to protect himself from Cora, then the time for compassion and leniency is long since past.

It's time to set aside Father Jones and take up Hook, to face his old enemy once again.

He pulls the familiar straps of his cuff tight, and the old pressure feels like coming home, though it leaves a cold weight in his chest.

He raises the gleaming hook to stare at its curve and deadly point. He'd thought his days of fighting were over. He thought he'd set revenge behind him. But if Gold's actions do anything— _anything_ —to harm Emma, well then… he still has the hook.

"Whoa," says Henry from behind him at the sight of the hook.

Killian lowers it to his lap and clenches his teeth. He still hopes he won't have to use it. He wanted to be a new man—he still does. He only hopes that Gold will let him.

Dark clouds swirl and gather over the woods, and Henry gasps as a bolt of lightning shoots down, a boom of thunder filling the air.

"That's Gold's work, all right," Regina mutters, her fingers tightening on the steering wheel. "I'd recognize it anywhere."

Moments later they pull up to the shoulder of the road near the wishing well. Sure enough, Killian can see Gold standing near the well, a wand of some sort in his hand.

A green cloud swirls within the opening of the well, threatening to spill out over the walls, filled with crackles of contained lightning. 

"Stay back here with the car, Henry," he says, stepping out with Regina and striding toward Gold.

"Explain yourself," he calls.

Gold looks at him with a mocking smile. "You told me to protect the town. So I am."

"This spell will kill anyone who passes through a portal to Storybrooke," says Regina, pointing at the well with a frown.

"Precisely," replies Gold, unfazed.

Anger wells in Killian's chest and he strides toward Gold. "And if Emma and her parents defeat Cora and come through the portal? What then?"

Gold shakes his head dismissively. "They'll never defeat Cora on their own. No—Cora is the one coming through this portal. And my spell will stop her. Both of you know how much of a disaster it will be if she succeeds in reaching Storybrooke."

"I do," replies Killian. "But I'm not willing to risk Emma's life to stop her. There has to be another way."

"None so effective," says Gold with an air of finality.

"No." Killian shakes his head, taking another step toward Gold. "Undo the spell. Now."

Gold wavers on his feet, leaning toward the well, but then steadies himself. A wicked grin spreads on his face. 

Killian's heart falters, a cold chill shooting down his back. He gave the man a command—why isn't it working?

"It's been some time since you last touched that dagger, hasn't it?" says Gold in a low voice—too soft for Regina to hear. "I've felt your control over me growing weaker with every passing day. I begin to wonder if I might have it in me to finish you off."

Killian takes a sharp breath, and tenses his hook arm, preparing it for a killing blow. But he can't strike yet—they need to undo that spell first.

"You've got to stop this! You're going to kill Emma and my grandparents!" Henry's voice catches Killian by surprise, but he doesn't take his eyes off of Gold.

"You were supposed to stay with the car," says Regina.

"No," Killian hears Henry behind him. "Mom—you have to stop this. Emma's coming. They're going to make it. You can't let him kill them." The boy's voice shakes with emotion, and even Gold's hard expression falters at the sound.

"I know you have good in you," Henry continues. "This is how you prove it. Save them. Turn it off."

There is a long pause, and then, out of the corner of his eye, Killian sees Regina moving toward the well.

"Regina—" Gold says, starting toward her, but Killian raises his hook in warning, and Gold holds back.

Regina stretches her hands out over the well, absorbing the green energy into herself, her body shaking and straining with the effort.

Suddenly a shockwave blasts out from the well, knocking Killian to the ground, and the world goes dark.

~ ~ ~

A short bath in the waters of Lake Nostos restore the bean to a smooth lustrous white. Emma grins. Cora may have beat them there, but not by much. They were going home. She was going back to her son.

David and Mary Margaret clasp hands and grin at Anton. 

"Thank you. You have no idea how much this means to us," says Mary Margaret.

Anton smiles feebly as he hands the bean over to David. "I may never be able to see my family again, but that doesn't mean you shouldn't see yours," the small giant says softly. "I don't know. Maybe I should just stay here. I'm better off alone."

Emma meets his gaze, her heart swelling in her chest at the thought of the two people standing next to her, and all they've sacrificed to be with her again. And at the thought of Henry, waiting for her on the other side. And Killian…

"No one is better off alone," she says. "Trust me. I used to think I didn't need anyone—didn't want anyone. But now that I have people in my life who love me, I know I was just fooling myself that whole time. You don't have to be lost, anymore, Anton. Come with us."

With an emotional gleam in his eyes, Anton nods. Emma sees her parents meet each other's eyes with sad smiles, and then they look back at her with nothing but love and acceptance in their eyes. Emma's never felt more wanted. She finally has the family she's always dreamed of. It's time to see if she can figure out how to make it work.

"I know a magic bean will open a more stable portal than those ashes would have," says David, "but I still wish we had something to guide us safely through, like the scroll was supposed to."

Anton nods. "Cora used a magic compass that she stole from me. But if your minds are all clearly focused on your home, it should be enough."

"I hope so," replies David.

"Wait," says Emma, a sudden thought filling her mind. She slips her hand into her pocket and grasps the insignia. "I think we do have something." She pulls it out, displaying it for her parents.

"A fancy luggage tag?" says David.

Emma rolls her eyes.

"It's a good luck charm that Killian gave her," says Mary Margaret.

"I think it might be more than that," replies Emma. "This belonged to Killian's brother back when they lived here in the Enchanted Forest, and Killian kept it as a memento after his brother died. Somehow it came over to Storybrooke with the curse. And I—I think it might be enchanted. My dreams—the ones I told you about—they were always clearest when I fell asleep holding this. Gold said the scroll was supposed to bind him to me, and that's why it would lead us through the portal. Well, I think this acts the same way. It's binding me to Killian. If I hold this when we go through the portal, it should work the same way, don't you think?"

Mary Margaret gives her a wide, knowing smile—but fortunately the words "true love" don't escape her lips. "Yes. I absolutely think that will work," she says instead.

David grins. "Well then, what are we waiting for? Let's go home."

~ ~ ~

A headache pierces Killian's forehead as he returns to consciousness. He blinks up at the still-cloudy sky between the treetops and sits up. Gold, Henry and Regina are all on the ground around him, though both Gold and Regina are also beginning to sit up.

Without a second thought Killian scrambles over to Henry and rests his hand on the boy's shoulder, shaking him lightly. "Henry—Henry, are you okay?" His heart pounds in his chest at the thought that Henry may have come to some lasting harm.

Henry moans and lifts a hand to rub his forehead. That's a good sign.

"Are you okay?" Killian repeats as Regina edges toward them, a look of concern on her face.

"I think so," mutters Henry, and Killian helps him sit up.

"Henry!" Regina's voice drips with emotion and reaches out to stroke her son's cheek.

He blinks a few times and then looks up at the now-peaceful well. "What happened?"

Regina pulls her hand back, her voices catches in her throat, and a tear rolls down her cheek. "I—I think—"

Killian feels a cold rock settling in the pit of his stomach. This isn't good.

"I think it was the impact of someone colliding with the spell barrier." Regina shakes her head. "I didn't get it down in time. I'm so sorry, Henry."

Killian's head spins and his breath comes in short, sharp gasps. No. It can't be over. She can't be gone.

Henry's face crumbles in grief, and Killian feels the pain echo in his own chest. Not again. It can't be happening again. Not this time. He barely survived losing his first love—how can he go on after this?

The pain suffuses his body and he clutches at his chest. He can't think—he can't focus. Everything hurts. Until his eyes land on Gold, now standing a few feet away, a shocked expression on his face.

A geyser of rage erupts from deep in Killian's soul, pushing through all of the pain. "You," he growls in a voice that sounds barely human.

He holds Gold's gaze. "You did this. You took her from me. Just like you took Milah!"

Gold barely has time to blink in surprise before Killian is on his feet. He launches himself at the older man, and with one swift, fierce blow, he sinks his hook deep into Gold's chest.


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Woohoo! I actually finished the next update in a timely fashion! Enjoy! As usual - disclaimer: a few lines of dialog were borrowed from the show; none of it belongs to me, etc.

Emma sees a light above her head and stretches out her harms. Her hands land on a stone ledge, and she scrambles with her feet to find a purchase in the curved stone wall around her, pulling with her arms as best as she can with the insignia still clutched in her right hand. She manages to dig her toes into the wall and levers herself upward, finally realizing where she is. She's inside the wishing well.

She pulls herself over the lip of well and swings her legs over the wall, her jaw dropping at the sight that meets her eyes.

"Killian! No!" Henry shouts, standing with Regina just behind him. Both of them are riveted on the two men on the ground nearby.

Gold lies prone, one arm raised defensively over himself, and Killian crouches beside him. In place of his usual prosthetic he brandishes a wickedly pointed hook, and in his other hand he holds a glowing red object. _A heart_.

"I'm going to crush it in front of you—just like you did to Milah!" cries Killian in a strange, vicious voice that sends shivers of fear through Emma's limbs. What the hell?

"You'll finally know how she felt as she lay dying in my arms!" Killian says, and begins to squeeze.

Oh God—he's going to do it. Emma steps forward. "Stop!"

With a gasp Killian turns his gaze to her and tumbles back to sitting as his eyes go wide.

"Mom!" shouts Henry, running for her as she sees Mary Margaret struggling out of the well behind her.

"Henry!" Emma calls back, wrapping her arms around him and pulling him close when he flings himself at her. "I missed you," she says, her voice shaking. "I missed you so much."

Nothing has ever felt quite so sweet as having her son back in her arms—until she feels Mary Margaret's arms wrapping around both of them on one side, and a moment later David joining in on the other. So this is what family feels like.

She lets herself revel in the sensation for a few moments before opening her eyes and looking at Killian again.

He looks almost like a stranger, his face red, his eyes wide with emotion. He wobbles to his feet, staring at them with his mouth hanging open, the heart still clutched in his hand.

Following her gaze, David and Mary Margaret pull back and Henry turns to face Killian.

"Killian—he didn't kill her. You have to stop. Put his heart back," says Henry.

Killian's eyes dart to Henry, and then rise to meet hers again. Her heart beats a little harder at the sight of him in the flesh. She's seen him so many nights—gotten so much hope from his visits—and now here he is. Holding a glowing heart in his hand. Something that's only supposed to be possible with dark magic.

"Killian—what's going on? Is that Gold's heart?" She saw the murderous rage in his eyes, but she can hardly believe it of him. What would drive him to this? How did he get the magic to do it in the first place?

He swallows hard and opens his mouth again. "I—I thought he'd killed you."

"He didn't. We're here," says Emma firmly. She has to get this situation under control. (And, God, did he just confess that he was ready to kill Gold out of revenge for killing her? How the hell is she supposed to feel about that?) "Give it back to him. Now."

Killian swallows again and nods, shuffling back toward Gold, who's raised himself to sitting.

"If they made it through safely, what was that explosion?" asks Regina, looking at Gold.

The man braces himself on his cane and stands, glaring at Killian before glancing at Emma. "Did Cora come through ahead of you?"

Emma nods. "Yeah. She beat us to the portal by about ten minutes."

Gold glares back at Killian. "Then that explosion was the spell working exactly as I intended—it protected us all from Cora. You're welcome."

Killian blinks a few times and then extends his hand holding the heart. Gold snatches it back from him and, in a move that makes Emma wince, pushes it back inside his own chest.

Killian raises his still shocked-looking face to Emma, and then back to Gold. "Forgive me," he stammers. He looks at Emma one last time and then drops his head. "Forgive me," he murmurs again, and turns, running off.

Emma's jaw drops. "Killian!" she calls, but he doesn't look back.

"Let him go," sneers Gold. "He's had a hell of a morning."

Emma tries to contain the fear and confusion in her chest. It feels wrong to let him go like this—but she belongs with Henry right now. She wraps her arm back around her son's shoulders and squeezes. "Are you okay, kid?"

Henry nods. "Yeah. I am now. For a minute there we all thought you were dead. I've never been happier in my life."

"Me too, kid," replies Emma. If only this thing with Killian hadn't marred that happiness. Should she go after him? He looked so lost…

As if reading her mind, David rests a hand on her shoulder. "He'll be alright, Emma. Let's get back into town. We could all use a good meal. You can talk to him once he's had a chance to calm down."

Emma swallows and nods. She needs to focus on her family, now. But Killian's broken face lingers in her mind.

~ ~ ~

Shame and regret course through Killian's body as he jogs through the forest, taking a rough path to avoid the roads. He can't face Emma again, today. Not after what she saw him do. He can't face Gold, either.

He'd been so wrong. He'd let all his old anger and hatred overwhelm his better judgment. And now he'll pay the price. None of them will ever trust him again. And Emma…

A root catches the toe of his shoe and he stumbles forward. He catches himself on a tree, and leans against the trunk, closing his eyes. He can still see the look of horror and fear in her eyes. He'd never wanted her to see the pirate in the throes of his ferocious vengeance. She'd never look at him the same way again. After a whole week of fighting to get her back, he's lost her all the same. And no one can be blamed but himself.

He trembles with exhaustion and wild emotion. There is only one being he can turn to for solace. Only one place he can seek comfort.

Killian pushes off of the tree and begins to jog again.

~ ~ ~

Emma tries to smile around her mouthful of lasagna at Granny's. The atmosphere is jubilant, with all of her parents' old friends gathered around to welcome and congratulate them.

When Ruby asked where Killian was, shortly after they arrived, David pulled her aside to murmur some quiet words in her ear, and she's been walking on glass around Emma ever since.

It sucks. This should be a happy time. A time to be relieved. Instead a lingering worry festers at the back of her brain. In addition to piracy, has Killian been hiding dark magic from her? But if Gold really was the one who murdered Killian's first love, why hadn't Killian attacked him until he thought Gold had caused Emma's death? There are too many questions that only one person can answer, but he is nowhere to be seen.

As she licks her lips clean of sauce, her eyes widen. Henry is walking toward her, pulling a reluctant looking Regina by the hand.

"Emma—you never would have made it back safely without my mom. As soon as she heard you were in danger she came to help. She's trying to change. Right, Mom?" Henry says, a hopeful smile on his face as he looks up to meet Regina's gaze.

Regina nods. Her voice is stiff and formal, but Emma can see a new softness in her eyes. "Henry is correct. I am—ready to try harder."

Emma stands up and draws close to Regina so they can speak in low voices. "Thank you. Really. But don't think I've forgotten everything you did to me in the past—or everything you did to my parents. But I hope we can get over that and move on. Truce?"

Emma extends her hand and waits.

Regina swallows and nods sharply before taking her hand and shaking. "Truce."

Emma still isn't ready to trust Regina—not by a long shot. But she is hopeful. And the look of joy on Henry's face is well worth this little show of peace.

Regina might be able to answer a question for her.

"Hey kid, can I have a moment with your mom?" Emma asks Henry.

He nods and heads to where Mary Margaret and David sit cuddling in their booth.

Emma turns back to Regina. "I'm going to try to make this work, but I know Henry moved out of your place. I don't want him moving back until we have a longer track record of you not being…" Emma waves her hand, searching for the right words. "… hell-bent on vengeance and destruction," she finally says.

She can see Regina's jaw tighten, but the woman nods. "I'm working on it. May I at least expect regular visits with my son?" Regina emphasizes that final word.

Emma nods. "Yeah. I think we can do that."

Regina wears a tight smile. "Excellent." She doesn't sound terribly sincere, but Emma lets it slid.

"Hey," says Emma, dropping her voice even lower. "I was hoping you could explain something for me. How did Killian get Gold's heart? Does Killian have some sort of magic?"

Regina's eyes narrow. "Ah. That. Naturally you're concerned about your pet pirate."

Emma frowns, but holds her tongue.

"You needn't worry about him hiding any magical abilities," continues Regina. "I assure you, he has none. What he did have was an enchanted hook. It was imbued with the ability to remove a single heart from a single victim—a spell I devised when I employed him as an assassin just prior to casting the curse. Naturally he failed in his task and joined forces with his intended victim instead. I understand you met her—Cora?"

Emma clenches her teeth and nods. "Yeah. We had a few run-ins. You actually wanted to kill your own mother?"

"Can you blame me?" Regina says, lifting an eyebrow.

She has a point, but still.

"You see how you can't trust him," Regina says. "He'll do anything for anyone as long as he thinks it benefits him. All he cares about is himself."

Emma frowns deeper. "You don't think there's a chance he's changed? Just like you're trying to?" She looks at Regina pointedly.

Regina's lips are thin. "Just be careful, Miss Swan. Especially when he's around my son."

"I will. I promise." And Emma means it. She heads back to her table, feeling relieved that Killian hasn't concealed dark magic from her, but also having more questions about his past than ever. That man she saw crouched over Gold wasn't the man she knows—he was someone else.

She visits with Mary Margaret and Henry for several minutes before she realizes that David is gone. When she asks Mary Margaret where he is, she gets a cagey look in her eyes.

"He had to talk to someone," she says evasively.

Emma has a feeling she knows exactly who that someone is.

~ ~ ~

Killian knows someone is behind him, but he doesn't turn his head.

He's been kneeling in front of the altar in his church for nearly an hour, pouring his heart out to God, confessing his sins and begging for forgiveness. He's prayed for absolution more times than he can count, focusing his mind on Christ, but he still feels tainted by darkness.

He'd been ready to kill. To murder. One of the darkest and most abominable acts.

He's felt the peace of absolution for his prior sins, but now he wonders if it was all in his mind. Is he still really just a lost soul, waiting to slip back into darkness?

"Killian," he hears David's voice behind him.

Killian sighs. He knew it would either be David or Emma, and right now he thinks he prefers David. 

He lifts his head and slowly rises from kneeling, wincing as his stiff legs stretch. He struggles to meet David's eyes. "Come to chastise me for my poor behavior in front of your grandson?" he asks. He deserves chastisement. Everyone trusted him to care for Henry—to be a positive influence in the boy's life. Instead he'd subjected Henry to the sight of him trying to murder a man. How can he ever face the lad again?

David folds his arms across his chest and shakes his head. "No. I've come to invite you to come back to Granny's. You belong there, with your friends."

Killian furrows his brow. "I—but—are you certain about that, mate? Do you really want a pirate hanging around your family?" He'd been prepared for some small measure of conditional forgiveness—but not this unquestioning invitation. He doesn't deserve it.

"You're not a pirate. Not anymore. A pirate would have gone to his ship and run away. But I didn't bother looking there. Because I knew this is where you'd be."

Killian swallows hard and looks away from the sincerity in David's gaze. How can he be so quick to forgive Killian, when he can't even forgive himself? "I'm not so sure about that," he admits. "I was ready to kill him. Nearly three decades as a priest wasn't enough to erase the anger in my heart. I wanted him dead, and I wanted it to be by my hand. A part of me still wants that. No matter how much I pray—no matter how much I try to convince myself that I've turned my back on that life—as soon as I had a reason to resume my pursuit of vengeance, I took it. Without even waiting for proof that he'd done the wrong I accused him of. Am I any different than him, in the end?"

David steps toward him and rests a hand on his shoulder. "You know you are. Gold was unwilling to set aside his magic, but I notice you've already set aside your hook."

Killian lifts his eyes to meet David's earnest gaze and shifts his truncated arm awkwardly, the cuff of his sleeve just covering his stump. "Aye. I couldn't stand the sight of it after this morning." He'd removed the hook and stashed it in his office as soon as he reached the church, in spite of the fact that he'd left his modern prosthetic back in his car. He rarely went about with nothing but his bare stump outside of his house, and it made him feel naked.

"That's what makes you different. Among other things," says David, a little smile on his face.

Killian nods and forces a smile in return. He feels somewhat heartened, but he still doesn't think he can face Emma or Henry again. Not yet.

"Come back with me," says David.

Killian shakes his head. "I think I need a bit more time to myself."

"No. What you need is to stop feeling sorry for yourself. Everyone's worried about you. Come back. Show them that you're okay." David doesn't seem inclined to budge.

Killian squeezes his hand into a ball. "I'm not sure I am okay."

"You will be. But not if you keep brooding. You need to get out of your head for a little while. Everyone wants you."

"Everyone?" Killian raises his eyebrows. He doubts the veracity of that statement.

David gives him a pointed look. "Yes. Everyone. And don't worry about Henry. He's been talking about you non-stop. The kid thinks the world of you. He's worried about you. So is Emma."

Killian's voice nearly catches in his throat. "Did she say something?" Is she really willing to forgive what she saw him do?

"She didn't have to," replies David. "It's written all over her face. She cares about you a lot."

Killian rocks on his heels, his heart stuttering in his chest. "Does she?" He wants to believe it. He wants to believe that those dreams meant something—that they indicated some sort of deeper connection, binding them together across the realms. But it could have just been a fluke.

"She does." David leans close to him, a conspiratorial smile on his face. "Don't let on that I told you this, but she held that insignia you gave her every night when she was falling asleep. And I saw her toying with it a lot during the day, too. You were on her mind all the time—almost as much as Henry."

Killian's throat feels even tighter. Just how much did he throw away with his rash actions this morning? He coughs a few times before he can speak. "Do you think she can forgive me for doing what I did in front of Henry?"

"I know she can," says David with soft sincerity in his voice. He shakes his head. "You're not the first man to feel ashamed of losing his temper, no matter how justified it might have been. I was ready to run Regina through when Emma and Snow first went through that portal. And that's not the first time was ready to end her out of anger. I can't say yet whether or not it will be the last. All we can do it to try to balance our emotions with as much reason as possible, and to strive to get better at it as life goes on. That's all anyone can do. Emma will understand."

Killian bites his bottom lip and nods. He hopes David is right, and the rational part of his brain tells him that he'll win her forgives and acceptance before long. What he sees now with utter starkness is that he wants more than forgiveness and acceptance. That's what he's truly worried about. 

But it's time to let go of that selfish concern. He was her friend first and always, and he is Henry's friend as well. It would be the height of arrogance and self-centeredness to abandon that friendship merely because there is a chance it will never be more. He won't be that man. If he was, he would truly be unworthy of her forgiveness.

"Alright," he says. "I'll come."

~ ~ ~

Emma's eyes droop with sleepiness as she takes a sip of her cocoa and leans against Henry, wrapping her arm around his shoulders. Today might not be perfect, but _this_ is. Being back with him. Being a family.

She squeezes him and smiles.

Henry smiles back. He turns to look back at where Anton now sits surrounded by the dwarves. "Looks like your giant is doing pretty well."

"Yeah." Emma smiles. "I think Leroy is adopting him."

"How'd you make him small in the first place?" Henry asks.

Emma frowns and shrugs. "I don't know. It just happened." She hasn't given it a moment's thought—there were much more pressing concerns.

"Maybe Cora's spell just wore off," suggests Mary Margaret.

"That doesn't make sense," says Henry. "I mean, he was big to begin with, right? So why would a spell wearing off make him small?"

Emma scrunches her forehead. "Now you're making my head hurt."

"Sorry," says Henry with a sheepish smile. He scoots a little closer to Emma, anchoring himself against her body, and it lifts her heart in a way nothing else can.

She ruffles his hair. "So—I think it's about time to head home. I could really use a long shower."

Before Henry can respond, the door of the diner opens and David steps inside, with Killian right behind him.

Emma's hand tightens on Henry's shoulder and her mouth feels dry. Killian's eyes look haunted as he immediately meets her gaze.

Henry leaps up and dashes toward him. "Killian! You're okay." He wraps his arms around the man in an impromptu hug which Killian quickly returns, an astonished smile on his face.

David approaches Emma, a smug little smile on his face. "Go talk to him," he says in a low voice. "He feels terrible about what happened back at the well, but the truth of the matter is we never would have held this town together without him, and I wouldn't have been able to come through and help you without his help." His voice gets more serious for a moment. "You don't owe him anything other than your thanks, Emma. But for that, at least, you should go talk to him. Anything else is up to you."

Emma licks her dry lips and nods. Okay. David is right. Killian did so much for her and Henry and the town—she needs to thank him. And to give him a chance to explain what she saw at the well. Besides—though the thought leaves her conflicted and unsettled—she really misses her friend.

She stands and walks over to where he chats agreeably with Henry.

Killian raises his eyes to meet hers, and his smile falters a little, a glimmer of fear shining in his eyes.

"Hi," she says.

"Hi," he replies.

She licks her lips again. Okay. She really needs to say something other than hi. "So, uh, can we talk? Maybe somewhere more private?"

Killian nods, and Emma notices that he looks almost as disheveled as she does. He's not even wearing a prosthetic of any kind. This is only the second time she's seen him without one, and it's still a bit jarring.

"Let's just…" she trails off, and gestures toward the back of the diner.

He follows her past the restrooms and the kitchen, into the passage connecting the diner with the bed and breakfast. Emma turns into the dimly lit laundry room where a load of linens tumbles in the dryer with a steady hum. She turns and leans against one of the quiet washing machines and stares at him.

After all these days, to finally see him face to face again…

Without thinking she reaches out to touch his arm.

His eyes go wide when her fingers make contact with his very-solid muscles. She knows she should pull back, but she lets her fingers rest there for a few moments, taking in the warmth and reality of him before she withdraws her hand.

"Sorry," she says softly, thinking that she must be sleepier than she thought to do something like this. "I guess I just wanted to make sure you weren't going to vanish this time."

He blinks a few times, holding her gaze. "So they were real for you, too? The dreams?"

All her parents' talk about the magic of True Love floods back into her mind and Emma instantly regrets bringing up the dreams. This is dangerous territory. It could lead to things she's really not ready to talk about. "Yeah," she admits, looking away from those blue eyes that seem determined to invade her heart. "They were." She nods and then adds, "David told me about them—you—what you'd told him, you know?"

Killian nods back. "I didn't tell him much. The dreams were too…"

_Emotional? Private? Intimate?_

"Yeah, I get it," she says, cutting him off. She needs to steer this conversation in another direction, and fast. "Look—I don't hold it against you. What happened back there with Gold. Regina told me about the spell on your hook, and I get it. I mean, I remember how I felt about Regina when she poisoned Henry. I was ready to pull her spine out. And Gold was the one who killed Milah, wasn't he?"

"Yes," says Killian in a pained voice. His eyes dart to the floor.

"Did he really pull her heart out and crush it?" Emma asks just above a whisper. She's knows she shouldn't, but morbid curiosity pushes her onward.

"Right on the deck of my ship, while I was magically bound and helpless to stop it," he says, his voice rough and his eyes distant.

Crap. This line of conversation wasn't any better.

"I'm just surprised you didn't kill him weeks ago," Emma says.

"I wanted to," Killian says, lifting his eyes to meet hers. She can see the honesty in them. "That night we first kissed—after my memories returned—I walked to his house and stood in the gutter staring at it, fantasizing all the ways I could kill him. But I turned my back on it. I reaffirmed my commitment to God, instead, and I tried to use my 12-step meetings to help me overcome my anger and lust for vengeance. I haven't been to a meeting in over a week. Clearly I need to go back." He quirked the corners of his lips up. He looks as desperate to lighten the mood as she feels. Good.

She smiles back, hoping to reassure him. "Well, everyone's okay. We're all okay. Cora is gone and the rest of us made it through safe and sound, just in time to—you know. So, it all worked out. That's what matters."

Killian's face goes grave again, and Emma rushes to speak again before he can make some sort of dramatic confession or declaration that she really isn't ready to hear right now. "So I need to thank you for looking after Henry, and for helping David. They've both had a lot of really good things to say about you. And I guess we wouldn't have had David's help without your plan, so I just—Thank you. For everything."

Killian reaches his hand toward her for a moment, but then drops it. "You're welcome.

His face is still creased with lines of anxiety and weariness. She doesn't like it. He's her friend—the one who she always turned to for help and comfort when she was struggling and needed her spirits to be lifted. He's the one who stood by her through all her issues with Regina, who befriended her son when he needed it, and who came to help her when Henry was in the hospital even after she told him she never wanted to see him again. He stood by her side that whole insane day, helping her even with a bullet wound in his shoulder. He's the one who set her body on fire every time they kissed. Why can't she just let herself trust him?

She knows why. And she has to clear the air. "You lied to me. You started a relationship with me under false pretences. I understand why you did it. I do. But it was still a lie. I can't just forget that."

"I know. I understand. It was a cowardly choice." He shakes his head, his whole face falling in a way that makes her heart ache. "I was so afraid of losing you that I chose to lie to and manipulate you instead of telling you the difficult truth. It was the wrong choice. I know I can never truly make up for it, but I will endeavor to try."

Emma hates this. She hates doing this to him—to herself. And she knows— _knows_ —with every fiber of her being that he's telling the truth, now. "I believe you," she says. "I just want to put this behind us and move on. Besides, after everything you did for Henry and David and—and _me_ —I think we can call it even."

His eyes get wide and hopeful in a way that makes her heart flutter, and she swallows hard. She can't get ahead of herself. "It'll still take some time for you to regain my full trust. You get that, right?"

"I understand perfectly," he says.

"Good," she says with a sharp nod, feeling slightly more in control. "I just… this whole situation is going to take some time for me to adjust. Everything is different, now."

"Yes. It is. But you have your friends and family here to help. We're all here for you. You know that, don't you?"

Her heart swells a little, and she smiles. "Yeah. I know." The whole family thing is part of what she's still adjusting to, but now that they're back in Storybrooke, she's kind of looking forward to it.

Her eyes flit to the soft smile on Killian's face and her heart flutters again. She was so ready to fall in love with him… but the image of the strange, vicious man squeezing Gold's heart in his hand rises in her mind.

"Killian—I don't even know who you are anymore," she says, and she feels an ache behind her words. She wanted this—she wanted _him_ —more than she'd wanted any relationship in a very, very long time, and a part of her still does. But how can she trust him when she doesn't even _know_ him?

He takes a small step closer to her, holding her gaze with an intense look. "Emma—I want you to know me. Do you want that? Will you give me another chance?"

Her breath catches in her throat for a moment before she answers. "I want to." She thinks back to the dream where he was lying beside her in her bed—how peaceful and perfect it had felt.

"As do I," he says quietly, drawing even closer, leaving on a few inches gap between them.

Emma can feel the warmth of his breath on her skin, and it sends tingles through her whole body. A part of her wonders if she already knows him better than she thinks she does.

"Thank you," she says, "for everything you said in those dreams. It really—it helped. A lot. I don't know how I'd have made it without you there to encourage me."

"It meant a lot to me, too," he says in a whisper. "Emma—"

This is getting too intense. "Your insignia," she says, grasping for a way to cut the tension.

He raises his eyebrows. "What?"

She draws the insignia out of her pocket and holds it up between them. "I had this with me. I—is it enchanted?" she asks, finally, after wondering for so many days.

He frowns a little and shakes his head. "No. It's just an ordinary bit of leather and metal. There's nothing magical about it."

She clenches her empty hand. No. Mary Margaret's theory can't be true. It's too much. She's not someone who has that kind of relationship—especially not with someone she knows so little about. "Are you sure? Because the dreams were only vivid when I'd spent some time handling this during the day. I was thinking maybe it had some magic in it that made the dreams possible."

"My brother and I were mere naval officers when this was made," says Killian shaking his head again. "There was nothing magical about it. Even after I left the navy for my more colorful career the only magic I ever had was what I bought or stole—or, on rare occasions—what was given to me."

Emma feels more desperate for a different answer. "Are you sure it didn't absorb some kind of magic during your time in Neverland?"

This time Killian shrugs and looks thoughtful. "I suppose it's possible."

_Thank God._ Finally, a bit of hope that gets her off the hook from this whole True Love theory. 

"Pan was quite a trickster," continues Killian, "and I wouldn't put it past him to enchant some of my possessions for his own amusement. Though this doesn't seem to be his usual style—not malevolent enough. But it is possible."

That's enough for Emma. She nods.

"I suppose we'll have to ask Regina or Gold sometime. They'll be able to tell," says Killian, eyeing the insignia.

"Yeah. Sure." But she doesn’t really want the answer. The uncertainty is more comfortable, at the moment. She presses the insignia against his chest. "Here. It's yours. You can have it back now." This way she'll never be tempted to ask the hard questions from someone who might be able to answer them.

She knows she's made a mistake when Killian's hand rises to cover hers, pressing it against his firm chest, his touch sending waves of heat coursing through her.

"Did it bring you luck?" he asks, holding her gaze.

She can't look away. She can't move her hand. "Yes."

"Then keep it. I want you to keep it," he says.

Emma licks her lips. She's having trouble thinking with him looking at her like this, and touching her like this… "Are you sure? It was your brother's."

"And now it's yours," he says with finality.

She nods, her eyes drifting to his lips. She's been missing the feeling of those lips against hers ever since their fight. She sees clearly now why she'd been ready to run away that night he finally confessed the truth to her—it was because she still wanted him, and that want made the pain even worse.

Oh God, she's going to regret this.

Sliding her hand down his torso, she leans in to brush her lips against his. Warmth shoots through her body like electricity, pooling between her legs.

She pulls back lightly from the short, sweet kiss, shocked by how much it's affecting her. She was so ready for this a few weeks ago—apparently she still is. Or, at least her body is.

Killian's eyes hold hers, a question shining bright in them. He whispers a single word. "Emma?"

She nods once—just a slight nod. It's enough of an answer for him.

He leans in, and she opens her mouth to meet his.

The kiss is soft and tender, brimming with emotion—filled with words unspoken outside of their shared dreams. His fingers tangle in her hair, brushing across her cheek, and his other arm wraps around her waist, pulling her close. She reaches up to grasp the back of his head, deepening their kiss.

She finally feels like she's come home.

_He loves me. He loves me. He loves me_ , Emma thinks in time with the movement of their lips and the caresses of their hands.

_I'm so completely screwed._

She pulls back, gasping for breath, and rests her hand against his chest again to push a little space between them. She can feel his heart racing even through his shirt. What if Mary Margaret is right? It would certainly explain her utter inability to control herself around Killian. Oh God, what if Mary Margaret is right? "What the hell are we doing?" she whispers.

"Emma—if this is too much or too fast, we can stop. I certainly had no expectations of anything like this happening—"

"You always say that," Emma says, dropping her hand and taking a step back.

"It's always true," replies Killian. "Look—a few weeks ago I told you that any relationship between us would move at your pace. You're in control, here. If you want to stop, I'll stop. If you want me to jump, I'll jump. You know how I feel about you Emma. I'm here. I'm in this. But it's up to you to call the shots. Tell me what you want."

I want to things to be simple. It seems so easy to let herself love him. It seems so easy to slide right back into what they had before fairytales became real. But real life is never that easy. Eventually the other shoe will drop. She needs to go slow. She needs to play it safe.

"I'm not sure what I want," she says, shaking her head and pushing her hair back from her face. "I'm still in the middle of trying to figure out how to be a mother and daughter and—and a fairytale character. It's a lot to handle."

"And is there room for us in the middle of all this?" he asks.

"I don't know," she says breathily. "Maybe?" She runs her fingers through her hair again as Killian raises an eyebrow at her. As much as a part of her is screaming out a resounding yes, the rest of her is terrified of where this might lead. She needs to focus on Henry. And on her parents. And her job. And… so many other things. 

But she still wants Killian in her life.

How is she going to make this work?

Killian must see the confusion in her eyes. He smiles. "Lass—take your time. You've had a hell of a week. Go home. Take a shower. Get some sleep. You don't have to solve all the world's problems in one day. They'll still be here when you wake up tomorrow morning."

Emma smiles and manages a small laugh. "You're right about that one. They aren't going anywhere. Plus, I really do need a shower."

Killian cocks his head, smirking. "I wasn't going to say anything, but there is a certain new fragrance about you…"

Emma rolls her eyes, smiling even wider. "Thanks."

He shrugs, and then angles his head in the direction of the diner. "Let's get you back to your family, and get you home. We can talk more tomorrow. Or the next day. Whenever you're ready."

Emma takes a deep, relieved breath and nods. This is exactly what she needs right now. "Okay. Let's go."

They walk side by side back down the hall toward the diner, and just before reaching it, Emma stops and reaches out to give Killian's hand a quick squeeze, just to make sure he's really there—this is really happening. She smiles. "Thank you again—for everything."

His smile is bright enough to light up a dark room. "You are most welcome."

 

TBC


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's hard to find time to write with my kids out of school for the summer, but I'm trying! Hope you enjoy. This chapter is the calm before the next storm.

Killian is still in something of a daze as he bids Emma and her family farewell. David gives him a smile and a knowing nod as he ushers his family out of the diner, and Killian slides onto a stool at the counter feeling nearly ready to collapse.

This day has carried him through an unprecedented maelstrom of emotions. From his early morning fears that propelled him to Gold's home to the anxious anticipation to renewed terror, and then the sudden hollow pain of loss followed swiftly by a terrible lust for revenge. Then came the odd intermingling of relief, joy, and intense shame and self-loathing.

And now—he has no idea what he's feeling now. Emma has not entirely forgiven him—rightly so. But she wants to. And she has not made any official renewal of their romantic relationship, but her kisses were enough to set his heart soaring and his mind spinning and he still doesn't feel the ground beneath his feet.

He knows now that somehow, extraordinarily, he's found a more secure place in her heart than he ever allowed himself to imagine. He takes a deep breath and rests his palm on the cool counter to steady himself. He needs to focus on winning back her trust. If he can do that, anything now feels possible.

He can't help but wear a slight smile on his face as he stares at nothing in particular.

"Coffee, Father?" Ruby leans against the counter beside him brandishing a mug and a coffee pot.

"Yes, please," he says. Caffeine will doubtless help him clear his foggy head.

Ruby smiles as she pours his coffee. "I'm glad you and Emma worked things out."

Killian arches an eyebrow. "I don't think I'd call things _worked out_ , but we certainly made progress."

"A lot of progress, I'd say, based on that cloud of pheromones that followed you back into the diner."

Killian can't stop his eyes from going wide and Ruby chuckles, tapping the side of her nose. "Wolf senses don't lie." She winks. "Don't worry—I won't go gossiping or anything. I'm happy for you. I feel like I'm watching a fairytale play out right in front of me. And yes, I understand the irony of that statement."

"The priest and the single mother? Seems more the stuff of a paperback romance than a fairytale," he replies with a smile.

Ruby rolls her eyes. "The pirate and the princess."

A shiver goes down Killian's spine as he remembers the first evening he ever spent alone with Emma. They watched _The Princess Bride_. Coincidence? Or fate (after everything that's happened he's not willing to rule out that possibility)? Or, even more interesting of a possibility, a gentle nudge from a higher power who knows how things ought to work out? He shakes his head. "Don't be in a hurry to see us enjoying a happily ever after."

"I can be patient," Ruby teases. Then her face grows more somber and she sinks onto the stool next to him, keeping her voice low. "Hey—I just want you to know that no one holds it against you. For attacking Gold. We've all wanted to—most of us just didn't have the guts to go through with it. He's hurt all of us. You more than most."

Killian freezes, surprised, and swallows his sip of coffee before meeting her eyes.

Ruby smiles apologetically. "I may have overheard David mentioning something about Gold killing your first love."

Killian clenches his hand around his mug and looks away with a sigh. "It seems I'll have to have a talk with the good prince about keeping my private history _private_." Besides the pang of betrayal, all the talk of Gold has also recalled to his mind Gold's ominous words from the well—that Killian's power over him was dwindling because it had been too long since Killian handled the dagger. Who knew what kind of mischief Gold could be up to already? Things may have turned out for the best with his barrier at the well, but Killian couldn't count on his other projects working out in the town's favor.

"He didn't mean for me to hear it," says Ruby. "I have wolf ears, too. Sorry."

Killian clenches his teeth for a moment, and then looks at Ruby. Her wolf senses might be of use to him. "It's alright. I actually wonder if you might help with a task I need to do. I was a bit distracted after what happened at the well, so I think I've put this off too long already. I need to do it now, but I could use a lookout with sharp senses to make sure no one follows or interrupts me. It's very important."

Ruby nods. "Okay. I'm in."

Within a half an hour they are at the cemetery. Killian sets Ruby to stand guard and warn him if anyone approaches. He needs to get his hands back on that dagger without Gold, or anyone else, getting to it first.

Though a few children on bicycles disturb Ruby for a few moments shortly after Killian starts digging, all else is clear, thank the Lord. Within a couple of minutes Killian's hand closes around the canvas-wrapped form of the dagger. He sighs in relief after pulling back the wrapping and closing his fingers around the hilt.

They are safe again.

Ruby approaches him and stares down at the dagger. "So that's where his power comes from?"

Killian nods. "I trust your discretion? I don't dare be parted from it again, now that I know my control diminishes without regularly handling it. But I don't want anyone else to know I have it back in my possession."

Ruby nods sharply. "You can trust me."

"I expect I can." Killian rises to his feet and smiles. "You have some experience keeping secrets, don't you?"

"My fair share," she agrees.

Killian drops Ruby back at the diner before paying Gold a visit. For the short duration of his visit he takes the chance of stowing the dagger in the trunk of his car. As soon as Gold opens the door he frowns.

"You've been back to wherever you hid it, haven't you? I thought you might."

Killian scowls back, and quickly runs a silent prayer for strength through his mind. Damn Gold for making it so bloody hard to do the right thing. But the Lord never said doing right would be easy. "No more magic," he says simply. "None at all. Not without my permission."

A bitter smile crosses Gold's face. "So this is my thanks for stopping Cora, is it?"

"Thank you," replies Killian with a mocking half-bow.

Gold's scowl returns. "Go to hell."

"By Christ's grace I believe I'll be spared that ordeal," says Killian. "And if you wish to avoid it as well, I invite you to begin attending my Sunday services. You might find them beneficial." He meets Gold's eyes one last time before returning to his car without a backward glance. He's done what he needed to do. There's no reason to subject himself to the man's company any longer.

Though the twelve step group at his church does not meet that night, Killian attends the group that meets at the community center. He doesn't share at the meeting, but being surrounded by fellow souls struggling for better lives fills him with a renewed sense of drive and purpose. He can do this. He can overcome his past. He can be the sort of man Emma deserves.

~ ~ ~

After Emma's long, wonderful shower she spends the rest of day peacefully at home with her family. (Though it still feels surreal to be applying that word to this scenario—especially with David. She's not entirely used to him yet—still too many bad memories of the whole adultery/murder suspect thing. But Henry likes him. That helps.)

They regale Henry with the tale of their adventures in the Enchanted Forest, but Emma lets Mary Margaret and David do most of the talking. She's still processing everything that's happened, and she's not eager to try to voice her feelings about things yet. For now she's content to sit on the sofa snuggling with her son, munching on some popcorn and drinking a beer.

That night she's happy to tuck Henry into bed on the cot they've set up at the foot of her bed, and then to crawl into her own warm soft bed. It's reassuring to have her son so close. She switches off the bedside lamp, and Henry's soft voice drifts toward her in the darkness. "I love you, Mom."

Emma grins, tears pricking her eyes, her heart fuller than she ever imagined possible. "I love you, too, kid," she whispers loudly.

She listens as the sound of his breathing slows to the deep, steady pace of sleep. Instinctively she stretches her hand out to her bedside table to run her fingers across Killian's insignia, which she set there before her shower. Memories stir in her mind of the warm softness of his lips against hers—of the way his hand cradled her face—the way his solid, lean body felt beneath her own probing fingers.

She can't stay indecisive about him for much longer. Stringing him along would be unfair—especially since she knows full well how deeply he feels for her. Emma can't say she'd call her feelings for Killian love—not yet. Lust, certainly. Friendship. Curiosity. Respect. Admiration. And, even now, a large degree of trust. His lies didn't shake that trust as much as they probably should have—his actions since have been too steady and devoted for her to doubt his explanation of his motives. She has to admit that had their positions been reversed, she probably would have done the same thing. Except she might have actually gone through with murdering Gold. In that regard Killian has proved even more steadfast and good than she would have.

She reaches out to run her fingers over the empty pillow beside her, remembering with perfect clarity how peaceful and perfect it had been when he lay beside her in her dream. She still doesn't know much about his past (the real version, at least), but she knows as much as she did with all the other relationships she's tried. Not that any of those were any good. But Killian is a better man than any of them had been—that much she can say with confidence.

Emma sighs. She'll never make up her mind tonight. The problem will still be here in the morning.

With thoughts of Killian still in her mind, she drifts off to sleep.

And opens her eyes to find herself sitting on Killian's sofa. She frowns down at herself. She's wearing the same jeans and top that she had on when she came to see him after Kathryn turned back up. The day they first kissed.

She looks up at the kitchen in time to see Killian walking toward her, a mug of cinnamon-scented hot cocoa in hand.

"What the hell?" she says.

Killian smiles and shrugs. He sets the mug on the coffee table and sits beside her. "I'm just as confused as you are, darling. I thought these would end when you returned to Storybrooke."

Emma keeps frowning. He's right. This isn't supposed to be happening anymore. Except… "It has to be your insignia," she says. "Somehow the damn thing is enchanted. It's doing this."

Killian arches an eyebrow. "Holding it in your sleep again, are you?"

Emma looks away from his gaze, feeling the warmth rising in her face. Shit. 

"If it makes you feel any better, you're generally on my mind as well, when I fall asleep."

Emma looks up to see Killian's teasing smile, and she can't help it. She smiles back. Trying to play it off she rolls her eyes and shakes her head. "No offense, but I was actually looking forward to a night of _dream-free_ sleep for once."

Killian shrugs, still smiling. He reaches out and grazes her arm with his fingertips. His touch is warm and sends tingles shooting down her spine.

His eyes get wide and his mouth hangs open.

"How…?" she says.

He shakes his head. "It always worked, before. A single touch and you'd vanish."

Emma takes a deep breath and tries not to think of all the things they could get away with now that they can touch in their dreams, because though it might not be _real_ , it would still be real. "Maybe being in the same realm makes the dreams stronger?"

"Hmm." Killian nods. "Well. Perhaps if we close our eyes and think of other things we'll leave this dream and wind up in another?"

It's as good a suggestion as any she could have come up with. "Okay." She nods. "Let's try it."

Emma turns away from him and settles back into her cushions. "Here goes nothing," she says, nodding at him.

Killian nods back and closes his eyes. Emma folds her hands in her lap and closes her eyes as well.

She tries to make a mental list of groceries she needs to pick up tomorrow (David didn't keep the fridge stocked while they were away). Then she thinks about the party Granny is planning for tomorrow evening. Then she wonders if she should start looking for a new apartment now that her parents are reunited and sleeping just downstairs. But the whole time she is also thinking about Killian sitting less than a foot away, and listening to the sound of him breathing.

After a minute she opens one eye to peek at him.

He's peeking at her through half-closed eyes, and the minute she meets his gaze he smiles and starts to snicker at her. "Shut up!" She smacks him lightly on the knee and then stands and moves to an armchair several feet away.

She glares at him. "We're trying this again. For real this time."

He nods, still smiling. "Yes, milady."

She shakes her head and closes her eyes again, once more trying to focus on anything other than Killian.

"Emma?" his voice breaks the silence.

"What?" She sighs, not opening her eyes.

"I'm glad you're home."

Emma smiles, warmth filling her chest at the depth of emotion behind his simple statement. "Me too." She takes a deep breath, savoring the enveloping peace that surrounds her.

And opens her eyes back in her own bed.

~ ~ ~

Killian returns to work the next morning, and thoughts of his reunion with Emma—and their latest shared dream—pop into his mind throughout the day, bringing a smile to his face. It's the happiest he's felt since the first moment he kissed her.

He spends most of the day preparing his sermon for his services the next day (he can hardly believe it's almost Sunday again—the week has been so full he barely kept track of the days), interrupted with frequent visits from various parishioners and other townsfolk come to vent frustrations, ask for advice, or seek spiritual counsel. Though many have new doubts in their faith since the breaking of the curse, most are still glad to be a part of a supportive church community. Perhaps their faith will return in time—perhaps not. In either case, Killian will still welcome them to participate in all aspects of the church community. 

In this new world he knows that the church will serve as a secular gathering place as much as it does a place of worship, and he's ready to help his staff and congregation make that transition now that things are finally settling down.

Again and again he hears frustration from those who wish for a way to cross the town line. It's something he'll have to discuss with Regina now that all immediate threats are past. Solving the problem could be a way for her to start to win the good graces of the town. He can't blame people for wanting to leave. The United States is a land of vast opportunity and potential, as all of them can see on television every single day. Here they are trapped in whatever jobs Regina once assigned to them, but beyond the border the sky is the limit.

Early in the afternoon Belle stops by. Killian smiles and rises to shake her hand, greeting her warmly before they both take a seat. 

"What can I do for you today, lass?" He can see the lines of tension around her eyes. He hopes Gold isn't mistreating her. She truly deserves so much better. Perhaps he can order the man to leave her alone…

"I need you to let him work magic, again," she says.

Killian widens his eyes. "Pardon?"

"Magic. Let him use his magic. He needs it for a very important task. Please. I'm asking you as a personal favor." She looks at him imploringly, wringing her hands in her lap.

Killian clenches his jaw. This is exactly why he didn't give the dagger to Belle. At this very moment it's wrapped in canvas and strapped to his leg under his trousers, where no else can get at it. "I'll need more details than that, love," he says, unable to keep the cold tone out of his voice. "What is this important task he needs magic for? Or don't you know?"

Belle's expression hardens. "You won't take my word that his task will harm no one—affect no one?"

"I’m afraid I don't dare take the risk of believing you. Not because you're a liar, Belle, but because he may have lied to you, or manipulated you. I'm sorry. I'll need to know the truth before I'll even consider your request."

Belle takes a deep breath, and holds Killian's gaze. "He's working on a method for crossing the town line without losing his memories."

"Of course," says Killian softly, rubbing his ear. "To find his son." This puts a new twist on the town line dilemma. One he should have anticipated if he hadn't been so focused on Emma and her family.

"Yes," says Belle softly. "It's all he cares about—all he's dreamed of and focused on for centuries. Nothing in his life matters as much to him as finding Baelfire. Not even me. Please. This is what he's worked so long for, and him leaving the town will hurt no one, I promise you that."

"No one but Baelfire," Killian says darkly, unable to bite back the words.

"By now Bae is grown. He'll know how to take of himself, and if he's still not ready to forgive Rumple, then that'll be the end of it," says Belle with firm conviction in her voice.

Killian rubs his lips, his mind in turmoil as he considers her request. "So after all he's put us through—after devising the very curse that brought us all here in the first place and manipulating hundreds of lives to bring it about—I'm to back down and simply let him have his reward?"

Belle leans toward him, fire in her eyes. "Is this the land of second chances or not, Killian? Do you truly believe what you preach, or are you just a hypocrite spouting pretty words?"

Killian clenches his teeth and glances toward his computer where he's been composing his sermon—on the topic of forgiveness. Belle's words are like a slap in the face. Forgiveness is a commandment; Christ commanded his disciples to forgive their brother's seventy times seven. And yet Killian hasn't managed to truly forgive Gold even once. Perhaps he is the hypocrite Belle accuses him of being.

He closes his eyes and shakes his head. "I'll consider your request. I need a little time to think."

Belle nods and catches his gaze. "I understand. Take the time you need. But I hope you'll make the right choice, in the end."

Killian remains troubled long after she leaves.

With effort he manages to finish his sermon, but every sentence he writes—every verse of scripture that he quotes—tells him that he must do the very opposite of his natural inclination. That he must, once more, set aside his anger over the most heinous act committed against the woman he loved and treat her murderer with far more compassion and respect than that man has ever shown to Killian.

It is almost more than he can bear.

After completing his sermon he takes a long walk around town to try to clear his head, but Belle's words and the words of his own sermon continue to plague his mind.

After much pondering he finally makes his way to Gold's house. Belle is waiting inside with her Beast.

Killian faces Gold's scornful glare and takes a deep breath, clenching his fist at his side as he forces the words from his mouth. "I grant you permission to continue to work on finding a magical solution to crossing the town line—but with a few conditions."

Gold nods.

"First, you must strive to find a spell or potion that will be universal and easily reproduced, so that any who wish to come and go from the town will be at liberty to do so. Second, you must test your solution on no one but yourself—you alone will bear the risk. Third, you must gain my permission every time you attempt to cross the town line or seek to leave Storybrooke to travel elsewhere. Is that clear?"

Gold nods. "Perfectly. However…"

"However what?" Killian snaps, not in the mood for the man's manipulations.

"The avenues that currently show the most promise are not universal, but require personal artifacts that span both realms. Few denizens of the town still possess such artifacts."

A roil of anger rises in Killian's chest. "Then try harder! Find a better way."

Gold swallows hard and nods. "Understood."

Killian spins on his heel and stalks to the door. Belle follows.

"Thank you," she says as he opens the door.

Killian looks over his shoulder at her.

"I know that wasn't easy for you. I'm very grateful," she says.

How Gold even won the love of a woman such as her continues to mystify Killian. "I'm no hypocrite, Belle. But neither is he an easy man to forgive."

"I know," she admits. "That's why this means so much to me. Thank you."

Killian nods and bids her farewell. He knows he's done the right thing, according to the teachings of the church, but it still leaves him unsettled.

He shakes his head. He needs to set this unpleasantness behind him. The welcome home party starts soon, and he wants to be in a happy mood when he sees Emma again. She deserves all the happiness in the world, tonight.

~ ~ ~

Apart from the brief, horrifying incident of walking in on her parents as they were about to get up close and personal, today has been a wonderful relaxing day. Exactly the kind of day Emma needed most, and she is thrilled to be surrounded by friends and neighbors for their homecoming party.

Her eyes lock on Killian's as he raises his glass of iced tea alongside everyone else's beer while David offers a toast, and grins at him while everyone clinks glasses.

She spent the better part of the day with Henry and didn't have much time to ponder her strange in-between relationship with Killian, but it almost feels better that way. Emma's never been the type to over-think things. She likes to act on instinct. And tonight, watching him laugh and smile with their gathering of friends, her instincts are telling her that she's pretty damn lucky to have someone like him in her life.

At one point in the evening Henry mentions his excitement for Killian's ship to be ready, and when she frowns in confusion he says, "Hasn't Killian told you about his ship?" and drags her over to the counter where Killian sits chatting with Leroy.

Henry prods Killian for details and he grins. "Oh, lad, don't get me started." He meets Emma's gaze. "Once you get me started talking about my ship, it's hard to stop."

Emma smiles. "I've got the time. Let's hear it."

Killian sighs and rests a hand over his heart. "First, love, I'm afraid I must confess a crime. I'm the one who broke into the _Jewel of the Realm_."

Emma's jaw drops and then she laughs. Of course it was him. It happened right after he remembered he used to be Captain Hook.

She listens with rapt attention as he talks about his ship, which he is once more calling the _Jolly Roger_ , and all his plans for her restoration. His helpers think she'll be seaworthy in another two or three weeks. She's rarely seen his smile look so relaxed and eager. Seeing him like this does things to her.

"I've talked to the harbormaster," Killian says intently, "and he and some of the fishing boat captains have made a study of it. The safe border of Storybrooke is considerably far out from harbor. That's how the fishermen are still able to operate. They've made a map of the safe sailing zone so that no one will accidentally lose their memories. It's not much space for a ship like the _Roger_ , but it's enough for some short cruises."

"I get to go on the first cruise," Henry says, bouncing excitedly on his stool.

"Do you?" Emma raises her eyebrows.

"That he does," Killian replies with a grin. "I promised, and I always keep my promises."

His smile sends thrills up and down her spine, and Emma suddenly has the urge to run her fingers through his thick, dark hair.

Why shouldn't she? The curse is broken, he's confessed the truth, he's good with Henry, and even her parents like him. He's proven himself to her time and time again. What's holding her back?

Killian continues talking about his plans to use the ship for youth group outings and school field trips. Eventually, if they find a way to solve the problem with the town boundary, he wants to turn it into a summer adventure camp for Episcopal youth.

"It sounds like an amazing idea," says Emma, her eyes locked onto his. She feels the truth behind his words. If the man were still a pirate at heart, he wouldn't sound so ridiculously excited about handing his ship over to Christian youth groups.

From everything she's seen, at heart he's still the same man she's been falling for over the past three and a half months. He's still her Killian. 

She's waylaid by Ruby and Mary Margaret for several minutes, and when she has a chance to look for Killian again he's sitting across from Regina in an isolated booth near the front door.

Regina's looked a little out of place all evening, and seeing Killian reach out to her warms Emma's heart even more. 

She quickly finishes off her third beer, feeling a pleasant warm buzz.

When Killian smiles and nods to Regina before standing back up to rejoin the crowd near the counter, Emma knows exactly what she wants to do. Maybe the alcohol is lowering her inhibitions, or maybe it's just that she's happier than she's been in ages. Either way, her mind is made up.

Before he makes it back to the counter she steps forward to meet him. "Come with me for a minute," she says, tilting her head toward the back hall.

Killian raises his eyebrows, his mouth open in a puzzled half-smile.

"Just come on," she says, a grin spreading on her face and jitters of excitement filling her gut.

She heads down the hall and Killian follows close behind. When she reaches the ladies bathroom she peeks in to make sure it's unoccupied.

"Emma… what are you—?" Killian asks behind her.

With mounting excitement she answers only by grabbing his arm and pulling him into the bathroom. She pushes the door closed behind them and locks it. Then she looks back at him. She can't wipe the smile from her face at his look of wide-eyed astonishment. Warm need is already blossoming between her legs.

Killian's mouth hangs open as she steps toward him. "Emma…? I don't want to jump to the wrong conclusion here, but …"

She cuts him off by finally digging her fingers into the thick hair at the nap of his neck and pulling him into a kiss.

It doesn't take him long to respond. He wraps his prosthetic-bearing arm around her back, pulling her close, and raises his good hand to cradle the side of her face. His lips part just enough for her to taste the lingering sweetness of his tea.

She hums in contentment against his mouth and sucks gently on his bottom lip. Her hand slides beneath his jacket, her fingers traversing his side and back, exploring the expanse of his taught, lean runner's body.

He pulls her hips closer, the warmth in her core growing hotter, and darts his tongue out to tease along the inside of her upper lip. She pulls him in, tasting him deeply and thoroughly.

God, this feels good.

For the next few minutes she loses herself. Nothing outside matters—just the feeling of his flexing muscles beneath her palms—the taste of his tongue against her lips—the soft gasps of their breath during the brief moments they must part for air—the feeling of his fingers as they tangle in her hair and trail down her neck.

Everything about this feels right.

She pulls back for a deeper breath and grins at him. He smiles back, running his thumb along her cheek.

"There's nothing on this earth more beautiful than your smile when you're happy," Killian murmurs.

"You're not so bad yourself," she replies.

"I know," he says with a shrug and a cocky gleam in his eye.

Emma giggles. "And so humble."

"Always." He grips the back of her neck and pulls her in for another kiss.

Emma doesn't complain. If it wasn't for her family waiting out in the diner she'd happily stay here for another hour.

The next time they pull apart Killian asks, "So, does all this mean that you've made up your mind about us?"

Emma shrugs and shakes her head, answering honestly. "I don't know. I'm just following my gut."

Killian smiles at that. "So your gut told you to drag me in here and kiss me senseless?"

"Tonight it did." Her gaze drops to his lips again for a moment. She's not sure she's quite done with the kissing him senseless part of the evening.

"And what will your gut tell you tomorrow?" he asks softly.

"We'll find out tomorrow," she replies. She knows that this is certainly the beginning of something. She'll figure out what that something is later. Tonight she just wants to enjoy the moment. And so she does, pulling him in for another kiss.

Until the doorknob rattles from the outside.

Emma pulls back and catches a quick breath. "Just a minute!" she calls to whoever waits out in the hall.

"I suppose that's the sign that we need to step back out to the diner," Killian whispers.

"I guess so," Emma admits reluctantly. She knew this would have to end sooner or later. "Okay, I'll see who's out there and try to distract them long enough for you to slip out," she whispers.

"Or you could just come out," calls Ruby's voice from the hall. "People are starting to notice you're both gone, and I can't run interference for much longer."

Killian meets her gaze with an apologetic smile and gestures toward the door.

Emma sighs, unlatches the lock and pushes the door open. Ruby stands in the hall with her arms folded and an eyebrow arched. "The bathroom? Really? You know Granny put me in charge of cleaning this, right?"

Emma glances over her shoulder, noticing the state of the bathroom for the first time and wrinkling her nose. She looks back at Ruby and shakes her head. "We'll find a better place next time."

Ruby just rolls her eyes. "Come on—an old friend of Snow's showed up and she's eager to meet you. And if you two keep sneaking off like this, the cat's going to get out of the bag whether you like it or not."

"Duly noted," says Killian from just behind Emma.

Emma turns back to him. He wears an amused little smirk on his face. "Hey," she says, "hang back here for a few more minutes, okay? We probably shouldn't go in together."

"As you wish," he intones with a slight bow.

This time Emma rolls her eyes and turns to follow Ruby back to the dining room. Just before leaving the hall Ruby stops her, looks her over, adjusts her cardigan, and tucks one of her bobby pins into place before smoothing her hair.

"There," says Ruby, "now you look slightly less like you were just making out in the bathroom."

"Thanks," says Emma. Now that the initial buzz and excitement has passed she can see just how childish her behavior has been. It's like she's fourteen all over again. For some reason Killian does that to her. Ruby does make some good points. Emma's not exactly ready to go public with this relationship—whatever it is—yet (she so doesn't need to hear another "True Love" talk from Mary Margaret when she still isn't sure if it's love at all). But if she's not more careful the cat really will be out of the bag. If it's not already.

Though David gives her a pointed look when she joins them, Mary Margaret seems happily oblivious as she steps forward to introduce Emma to an older woman named Johanna.

"She was my mother's maid, and then, for a time, she was mine. And apparently she's been helping with Henry this week."

"Yep," says Henry with a smile. "She's great. She always has homemade cookies and she has _four_ cats."

Emma steps forward to shake the woman's hand and make her acquaintance. They chat for several minutes about Henry and her memories of Mary Margaret as a child before Killian finally steps back into the dining room, pretending to be getting off a phone call.

David gives Emma another sharp look, but no one else seems suspicious as Killian joins their group.

When the party winds down for the night, Killian catches Emma alone for a moment. "I'll be busy tomorrow with my normal Sabbath obligations, but I was hoping I could see you again on Monday?"

Emma smiles. "Yeah. You can count on it." Then they say goodnight.

Later, back at the apartment, after tucking Henry into bed, Mary Margaret teases Emma a little. "You and Killian seemed to be getting along well, tonight."

Emma wears a tight smile. Yep. The cat is very nearly out of the bag. "I think we've worked out our differences."

"Good," replies Mary Margaret with a grin, but fortunately lets it drop after that.

When Mary Margaret steps into the bathroom David sidles up to Emma. "Hey, uh, I just wanted to say…"

"What?" Emma asks. She can see from his expression that he's having just as much trouble dealing with the idea of having a daughter his own age as she is in reverse.

"I just…" he stammers, "I meant it when I said that Killian is a good man. I do believe that. But his past is very…very… troubling. Before you get too serious with him you need to have a good talk with him about it—clear the air. I just want you to go into this with your eyes wide open. That's all."

Emma's never had a father or a brother to look out for her before, and the experience is a little surreal. But she knows he's being sincere. "Okay," she nods. "I'll talk to him."

"Good. Good," says David with a sheepish smile before saying good night.

After she gets in bed Emma is tempted to reach out for the insignia again, but decides against it. She wants to wake up with a clear head, for once.

~ ~ ~

For the first time in a week, Killian has no memory of his dreams.

His home seems oddly quiet with Henry gone, but he supposes he needs to get used to being alone again. 

He delivers his sermon to a large congregation, and the service goes well. Everyone seems to be ready to get back to business as usual. As he circulates among the crowd after the service, he notices a conspicuously absent face—Johanna.

She hasn't missed a service in as long as he can remember, and she seemed in perfect health last night.

He tries not to let her absence bother him, but it lingers in the back of his mind, his instinct telling him that something is wrong.

He keeps his appointment to share lunch with one of the deacons and his family, but afterward tries calling Johanna. There is no answer.

He pays a few more visits to needy parishioners, delivering food and household goods to a few of the elderly and disabled who can't always get out shopping. Doing the acts of service fills him with a renewed sense of confidence that he's chosen the right path in staying true to his vocation. This work brings him greater lasting peace and satisfaction than piracy ever did.

When he tries calling Johanna again and still gets no answer, he decides to drive by her house.

He knows something is amiss when he hears her cats mewling loudly inside and finds her door unlocked.

His heart skips a beat when he steps inside to find Johanna prone on her living room floor, her eyes wide and staring, her skin long grown cold.

From the state of disarray in her room he can tell there was a struggle.

This was no accident.

Johanna was murdered.

 

Tbc


	19. Chapter 19

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What better time to update than CS AU week? Here's a nice long chapter for you. I'm thinking there will be 8-10 more chapters, and given my track record lately I might not finish before the new season, but at least shortly thereafter. Disclaimer: Lines of dialog from the show are quoted in this chapter – none of it belongs to me, etc.

Emma steps into Gold's shop, the bell on his door tinkling in her wake, strides toward him and slaps the insignia down on the counter.

Gold raises an eyebrow. "Come to make a sale? From the looks of it I can't pay you much. Are you sure you wouldn't rather pawn something of greater value?"

Emma shakes her head. For the first night in a week she had no dreams. It has to be this damn insignia, no matter what Killian might say. It's time for answers—answers that don't involve her parents' theory of True Love. "I'm not here to sell it. I want you to tell me if it's enchanted."

"Hmm," says Gold, looking down at the insignia with a fresh gleam of interest in his eyes. "Did you come into possession of it during your time in the Enchanted Forest?"

"No," Emma confesses, knowing Gold won't like her answer. "Killian gave it to me."

His eyes narrow. "I see."

"It's from the Enchanted Forest, from before the curse, but for some reason it came with him here. He says it's not magical or enchanted, but it has to be. Maybe Peter Pan enchanted it while they were both in Neverland, or something."

 

"And exactly why should I help you with no offer of payment, Miss Swan?" His curiosity has faded, replaced by a frown.

"After all you've done to me—after all the ways you've used me—you owe me one," she retorts.

Gold puffs his chest a bit. "I suppose you're expecting an apology for my role in what happened at the well—"

"No. No apologies necessary. I understand why you wanted to keep Cora out of here."

"Just remind me never to bet against you in the future, Miss Swan," he says.

"It's not really a bet when the game is rigged, is it?" It's time to have it out—all she learned in Enchanted Forest about the way he used and manipulated her entire life to make the curse happen, and to make certain that she broke it.

"To what exactly are you referring?"

She tells him about seeing the scroll covered in her name, written in ink that he could have used to escape at any time.

"I was exactly where I wanted to be," he admits. "You needed to find that so that all this could occur."

"You created the curse, Gold. You made me the Savior. So everything I've ever done—it's exactly what you wanted me to do." All the same doubts she felt while trapped in Gold's old cell come flooding back to her. It doesn't matter what her parents or Henry or Killian have said. She didn't write her own destiny—Gold did. And she wants to know what that means for the rest of her life.

"I created the curse, dearie, but I didn't make you," he says with a wry smile. "I merely took advantage of what you are. The product of True Love. That's why you're powerful. And everything you've done, you've done yourself. Including this." He holds up the insignia.

"What are you talking about?" He can't be saying what she thinks he's saying.

Gold glances at her with a raised eyebrow, and then looks back down at the insignia in his hand. He waves his other hand over the insignia and a faint white glow emanates from it.

"Well?" asks Emma. "What does that mean?"

Gold shakes his head. "There is an enchantment on this insignia, but it's not Pan's work—I've seen his magic, and this isn't it. No. Whatever this is, it was cast recently, and inexpertly."

Emma shakes her head. "No. I see where you're going with this, and… just no."

"There's no denying the truth. The magic came from inside of you, Miss Swan. Let me ask you a question—Father Jones told me about your shared dreams. Did this insignia have any relation to that phenomenon?"

Emma swallows and nods, starting to think that this answer is even worse than True Love. She can't have magic. That's ridiculous. "Yeah. Every time I held it while falling asleep, we met in our dreams."

Gold nods slowly. "Exactly. Your powerful desire to see and speak with your paramour was enough to enact magic on this insignia, using its connection to him and his past as a conduit between realms to link your dreams. That's extraordinarily powerful magic to wield by pure instinct."

Emma's gut twists in knots. "No. You have to be wrong. This isn't me. I can't do magic."

"Can't you? Is there anything else—anything at all—from the past few weeks that you can remember which seemed so unexpected or extraordinary as to be magical?"

Emma skims through her memories, trying to find anything to contradict his assertions. But instead, as she reexamines some of her recent experiences, she finds the opposite. "After you shot Killian—I haven't forgotten that, by the way—" she gives him a sharp look, "I ran to the hospital. And all along the way people seemed to be startling, like I'd sprayed them with a water gun or something. I think they were waking up from the curse, even before I kissed Henry, just because I wanted them to."

Gold nods, and Emma's heart sinks as the truth washes over her.

"And then," she says, "when we were trying to escape through the portal at Lake Nostos, Cora had the giant. The one we brought through with us. She'd been controlling him in a shrunken form, and then she made him big again and sent him to attack us. He got his hand on me and was squeezing the life out of me. I remember wishing that he would just get small again, and—" she pauses, finally accepting the full reality of what happened. "And he started to shrink." She meets Gold's eyes. "I did that, didn't I?"

"I believe that you did," he replies, the corners of his mouth just turning up in a hint of a smile.

Emma takes a deep breath to steady herself. So. She has magic. Yep. This is just as bad as the True Love theory. She looks up to meet Gold's eyes. "What do I do, now?" she asks.

"That, Miss Swan, is entirely up to you."

She leaves Gold's shop, completely uncertain about what to do with this new information. Is she supposed to get him to teach her now? Or maybe Regina? Or is there someone else in town—someone a little less malevolent—who might do the job? Does she really want to learn how to use magic at all, or should she just try to forget about it? (She tries not to dwell on the fact that it was her thoughts of Killian, and her feelings for him, that made the magic of the dreams possible in the first place.)

She tries to set her tumultuous thoughts aside when she returns home to share lunch and a lazy Sunday afternoon with her family. She decides to hold back the news of her magical powers for the time-being. She needs to wrap her own head around it for a little longer before telling anyone else.

For the whole time she was stuck in the Enchanted Forest Emma fixated on the thought that she needed to get home to be Henry's mom. So that's exactly what she does.

"Come on, kid—that math homework won't do itself," she pesters when Henry gets distracted (again).

He sighs and turns back to his paper. "I still don't see why I have to go to school tomorrow when Mary Margaret isn't going back, yet."

"You have to go because you need a good education to get ahead in this world. You don't want to have to do things the hard way, like me. Trust me," says Emma, poking him in the shoulder.

"And I am meeting with Mrs. Lynch tomorrow after school to touch base about the work you've been doing while I was gone," adds Mary Margaret. "I'll be back to work on Tuesday."

"That's something to look forward to," says Emma. "How many kids get to be in a class taught by their grandma?"

It still feels weird to say that, but the warm smile Henry shares with Mary Margaret helps her believe that they'll make this unconventional family work. Somehow.

Henry works diligently for a few minutes until Emma's cell phone rings. She sees that it's Killian calling, and steps away from the table to answer. But the smile on her face fades when she hears what he has to say.

They've been back two days. _Two days_. Barely time to rest. And now this.

"I don't know how to break the news to Mary Margaret," says Killian softly. "She only just reunited with her old friend, and now—" Emma can hear him choke back emotion. Yesterday Johanna told her that she's been in Killian's congregation ever since he came to Storybrooke. It might have been false memories, but the respect and affection they felt for each other was real. Mary Margaret isn't the only one who will be mourning a friend today.

"I'll take care of it," she says. "I'll bring David and be there as soon as I can."

Her breath shakes as she hangs up, and she tries to put on a brave face when she turns to ask Mary Margaret and David to join her in the hall for a private word.

David's face is grim, and Mary Margaret looks stricken and pale.

"And he's sure it wasn't just an accident, or a heart attack?" says Mary Margaret, unshed tears gleaming in her eyes.

Emma nods. "He's sure. He saw the bruises on her neck. We'll get a coroner to confirm it, but it looks like she was strangled."

Mary Margaret shakes her head and leans into David's offered embrace. "It doesn't make any sense. Johanna was one of the kindest, gentlest souls in this town. Who could possibly want to hurt her?"

"That's what we need to find out," replies Emma, her shoulders slumping. She isn't ready to take up her badge again, but it seems she has no choice.

"I'll come with you," says David.

Mary Margaret wants to come, too, but they convince her to stay behind with Henry. Emma's heart sinks at the thought that she'll have to break this news to him. He may not have known Johanna for long, but he's already fond of her. After all the tumult of the last few weeks, this is the last thing he needs.

The next few hours are a blur of depressing activity. Killian greets them at Johanna's house with red-rimmed eyes, holding one of the woman's cats in his arms like a security blanket. Emma and David take pictures of the crime scene (Emma has no doubt in her mind that's what it is) and call the town coroner, then search the house for any sign of motive, but they find nothing.

When David offers to take the four cats into the animal shelter, Killian shakes his head. "No. I'll take them home. These cats were the closest thing she had to family. I'll honor her memory by making sure they all have good homes."

Emma doesn't know what to say to him. He always seems to know exactly how to comfort her when she's struggling, but now, in the face of his grief, she feels paralyzed. She helps him load the cats into his car along with a bag of food and a bag of litter, and offers him the best smile she can muster.

He seems to know what she means, because he smiles back. "Don't worry, Swan. I'll be alright. You just do your job. Find whoever is responsible for this and bring them to justice."

"I will. I promise."

Her investigation goes nowhere for another hour until Ruby turns up. Mary Margaret just told her what happened, and she has something to say. 

"I saw Regina and Johanna fighting outside Granny's last night, right as Johanna was arriving." Ruby's arms are crossed and her face is grim. "Regina yelled at Johanna for spending more time with her son than she got to. It was pretty vicious."

"We may have just found our culprit," says David.

Emma's not so sure. Why would Regina endanger her relationship with Henry over a temperamental scuffle? It makes no sense. She has Ruby come to the station to fill out an official report, and calls Regina in for questioning. Mary Margaret insists on watching.

Regina is completely taken aback back at the news that Johanna is dead. Though David and Mary Margaret seem more convinced than ever that Regina is responsible, Emma simply can't agree. Her sense about lying tells her that Regina is being honest—she had nothing to do with this murder. But she _is_ being framed. 

After a discussion with David and Mary Margaret about who might want to frame Regina, Emma concludes that there is only one person in town willing to kill to get what they want—Mr. Gold.

They find him at his house about to have dinner with Belle, and he's none too pleased at their arrival. He denies having anything to do with Johanna's death, and when he learns a little more, he insists that he can prove it—if they bring in one of the witnesses.

"No one was there," says Emma, frowning and folding her arms.

"Now that's not strictly true, is it?" Gold replies. "Didn't you mention something about some cats?"

~ ~ ~

Killian holds Jilly—a fluffy white and gray feline—close to his chest.

"You promise this won't hurt her?" he asks Gold once more. Killian wants answers as much as anyone else, but he won't see Johanna's cat harmed in the process. She loved these cats like they were her children, and he's determined to see them well cared for. She deserved far far better than this grim fate.

"I promise," replies Gold. "I'll merely be extracting her memories of the events. She will come to no harm."

Killian raises his eyes to meet Emma's gaze where she stands across Gold's shop from him. He hadn't expected her call tonight, and this dark business is hardly the way he'd hoped to spend time with her. She nods, her lips tight.

Killian takes a deep breath. "Very well. Do what you must. I give you permission to use magic in this endeavor."

"Before you do," cuts in Emma, "remind me—why should we trust you? Couldn't you just as easily use magic to fool us?"

"Because I'm not going to be the one using magic," Gold replies, looking at her. "You will."

All eyes in the room turn to stare at Emma, and Killian frowns. What in the world is Gold talking about?

"Me?" asks Emma. "How?"

Gold strolls nonchalantly toward one of his cabinets and opens it. "You have it within you. You told me yourself." He extracts an artifact and turns back to face them. "You've all witnessed it, haven't you? When she shrunk the giant. When she unconsciously used her powers to connect her dreams to yours." He meets Killian's eyes with a pointed gaze.

David and Mary Margaret look as stunned as Killian feels, but Emma stares at the ground and shuffles her feet. Is Gold telling the truth? "Emma?" Killian asks softly.

She raises her eyes slowly and nods. "I came to talk to him about this stuff this morning. I think he's right." She flicks her gaze to her parents. "I think I was the one making all that happen. I think I really do have… magic." The last word comes out sounding like she is tasting something bitter on her tongue.

"Why didn't you tell us?" Mary Margaret asks.

"I was still processing it. I don't know what to think." Emma looks down again and shakes her head. "But I certainly have no idea how to do whatever it is Gold wants me to do."

It all finally makes sense—the dreams, the portal, the way she was able to break his curse before everyone else's. In spite of the grief Killian still feels his lips curl up in a slight smile. The power truly has been in her all along, just as he told her that day outside the library after she killed the dragon. Whether it was pure instinct or the inspiration of his God, Killian had spoken the truth before either of them fully understood it.

Gold raises his hands and gestures. "You have the gift, Miss Swan. You are the most powerful natural magical talent that I've come across in decades. You need to learn how to control your power. Consider this your first lesson. I'll talk you through it."

Emma still looks uncertain.

"He's right, Swan," Killian says. "You have what it takes to do this. I know you do."

Emma meets his eyes for a moment, her gaze filled with nervousness, and then nods. "Okay."

Gold holds up the item from his cabinet—a dreamcatcher. He runs it along Jilly's furry back until the circle of the dreamcatcher swirls with golden light. The light of memories.

He hands the dreamcatcher over to Emma, telling her to will the memories to come into focus. Killian watches her intently as she screws her face up in concentration, staring into the golden swirl. "I—I can't," she says softly.

Gold raises a finger. "Yes you can."

Killian knows she can do it. He _knows_. "Come on, love," he says softly. "You've got this."

Emma closes her eyes, and with a final burst of concentration an image appears in the circle of the dreamcatcher.

"You're doing it," whispers David.

They all stare at the picture of Johanna walking to her door and opening it to find Regina on her stoop. Emma's hands shake as they watch Johanna let Regina in. With a start Regina reaches out to clap her hand around Johanna's neck, and Mary Margaret cries out and looks away.

They watch for a few moments longer as Regina strangles the life out of the struggling older woman before Emma gasps and drops the dreamcatcher to the ground. She turns to her parents, her face twisted with pain. "You were right all along."

After a tense moment, Emma spins and heads out the shop door. Emma's parents follow, and Killian is right behind them.

Emma declares her intention to go after Regina immediately, to make her pay for what she did to Johanna. Killian agrees with the sentiment, but he also agrees with her parents. Emma's newfound magic isn't nearly enough to go up against Regina. Not without a plan.

"So what do we do?" Emma asks.

Killian stands listening to David and Mary Margaret formulate a plan, feeling more than a little foolish for still having the cat in his arms. He also feels angry. After all the chances they've given Regina—after all her declarations of wanting to change for Henry's sake—how could she do this? He has to believe that a villain can change. That they can somehow find a happy ending. His own future depends on such a belief. Would Regina really throw away her second chance over a petty argument?

When Emma and her parents finish their hasty planning, Killian follows them again in spite of the cat still in his arms. "Emma—are you sure about this? Do you really want to act with such haste?"

"The faster the better," she declares. "I don't want her getting wind of this and going on the lamb."

"Just—" He squeezes the cat in his prosthetic-capped arm, ignoring its meows of protest, and reaches out to rest a hand on Emma's shoulder. He also ignores the gazes of Emma's parents boring into him. "—be careful. Please. Regina is a dangerous enemy. You can't risk yourself hastily. For Henry's sake, if not for anyone else's." He knows he might be overstepping his bounds here, but he can't help himself.

Emma's eyes soften for just a moment. "I will be careful. I promise. Go home, Killian. We've got it covered."

He nods and releases her, but a knot of worry tightens in his stomach as he watches her walk away.

Killian spends the remainder of the evening trying to make his new collection of cats comfortable and making some preliminary phone calls to arrange for Johanna's funeral. It's disheartening work. 

He resists the urge to text Emma for updates. She doesn't need him hovering like a mother hen right now—not when things are still so new and uncertain between them. Instead he forces himself to get ready for bed. He'll need his rest to prepare him for a long, depressing day of funeral planning tomorrow.

He's just set aside his prosthetic and started unbuttoning his shirt when a swirl of purple smoke appears in his bedroom.

He stumbles back and reaches for the nearest heavy object—a stone bookend—that might serve as a weapon.

Regina emerges from the smoke, her eyes bright with tears, a scowl twisting her face.

Killian is dumbstruck for a moment.

Regina shakes her head at his expression. "That's right. Your friends' pathetic little plan to entrap me with fairy dust failed." Her voice cracks a little.

She doesn't wear the expression of a woman out for blood.

Killian's eyes narrow. "Regina—why are you here?"

She takes a deep breath. "You of all people know how hard I'm working to make myself more worthy of my son. Do you honestly believe I'd throw it all away like this? That I'd be so petty and careless?"

"I confess I had a hard time believing it when the suspicions first turned to you, but I saw the proof with my own eyes," he says.

Pain shines bright in her eyes. "That magical vision that Miss Swan supposedly conjured? And you don't think Gold could have twisted her novice magic into a vision of his own making? That he might be behind all of this?"

"The thought had crossed my mind," Killian says cautiously. He has no plans to tell Regina about the dagger or its power over Gold—there's no knowing what she might do with that information. But she does have a point—Gold has ways of finding loopholes in all of Killian's commands. Perhaps he did manipulate Emma's vision. It would certainly make more sense than Regina committing an impulsive murder at such a crucial point in her relationship with Henry and Emma.

"I didn't do this," Regina says firmly.

She has a look of truth on her face, but Killian's been fooled before.

"You believe me, don't you?" she asks in a softer, pleading tone.

He takes a breath before answering. "I'm not certain I'm willing to go that far, yet. But, for the time being, I'm willing to give you the benefit of the doubt and concede that you may be telling the truth."

Regina takes another step toward him, anguish visible in her eyes. "Tell Henry. Tell him that Emma is wrong—I'm innocent. And I'll find a way to prove it. Please?"

Killian fidgets, looking away from her gaze. It's not his place to come between Emma and her son. Telling Henry will mean telling Emma. But how can he deny a mother in pain—especially when she might be telling the truth?

He nods shortly. "I will."

"Do you promise?" her voice takes on a harder edge. Damn it. She knows exactly what she's doing. She knows that his commitment to his vocation won't permit him to back out of a promise.

He sighs and nods again. "I promise. I will convey your message to Henry."

"Thank you," she says. After a moment of silence, she nods and vanishes in another puff of smoke.

Killian sinks to the edge of his bed and rubs his face with his hand, wishing that just for once his life could be simple.

~ ~ ~

Emma is at the station squinting at the coroner's preliminary report when Killian arrives with a tall coffee.

In spite of the ache of tension in her back, she can't help but smile at the revival of their old tradition. "Thanks. It's good to see you."

"Were you talking to me or the coffee?" he asks with a smile.

"The coffee," she teases, taking it and downing a sip. Damn it feels good to be doing something normal again. If only normal didn't include a murder investigation that's managed to traumatize her roommate— _mother_ —and her son at the same time.

She sent Henry to school with the insistence that getting back into a normal routine will help him cope, David is out canvassing Johanna's neighbors to see if any more information can be gathered, and, as far as Emma knew, Mary Margaret was over at the church with Killian helping with the funeral preparations.

"How's everything going?" she asks after another sip.

He sighs. "Well enough. Johanna was good friends with my office manager, Doris, and she and Mary Margaret have taken over most of the planning. We should be able to put her to rest tomorrow afternoon. Your mother can be quite the force of nature."

Emma cracks a smile again. "Yeah. I'm starting to figure that out."

Killian nods, his fingers wrapped around his own coffee. She can see the stress lines around his eyes, and his hair looks more disheveled than usual. She can relate. She barely slept last night and exhaustion has soaked down as deep as her bones.

"How is Henry?" Killian asks softly.

Emma bites her bottom lip before answering. "Not good." 

Henry's been going through the five stages of grief over losing his relationship with Regina, and this morning he seemed stuck on "Bargaining." ( _"I should have spent the night at her house. Then this never would have happened." "I should have gone to her for help more often." "I should have called her to say goodnight." "I should have invited her over for breakfast."_ ) Every time Henry launches into another "If only…" Emma's heart breaks a little more. She understands better now why Mary Margaret followed her through that portal. Emma finally sees how the pain and trials of your child are your pain, too.

She can feel tears welling in her eyes and blinks to fight them back.

"It's alright to cry, darling," says Killian, reaching out to wipe the corner of her eye. "It's not every day you have to grieve over your child being estranged from his other parent."

From anyone else Emma would have found such a touch and such words patronizing, but from Killian they feel unexpectedly comforting. She takes his hand and squeezes it while a few tears spill down her cheeks.

"He still loves her so much. I don't know how to make this better." Her voice shakes as she speaks.

Killian doesn't answer—just holds her hand a little firmer and sits with her while she sniffs and dashes away the tears with her other hand.

She shakes her head and sniffs again. "Thanks for this. But I don't have time to indulge in any wallowing. I need to find Regina—the sooner, the better."

Killian takes a deep breath, withdrawing his hand. "Speaking of Regina…"

Emma raises her eyebrows. "What is it?"

"She paid me a visit last night after your attempt to detain her failed."

Emma stares at him, her jaw dropping. Her eyes dart over him, making sure she didn't miss any hidden wounds, while her heart starts to race. She jumps to her feet, her mind spinning with new fears. "David—Mary Margaret—we have to warn them. And Henry. Oh god, what if she goes to the school?"

Killian leaps up and takes her arm. "Emma, calm down. If she was after blood I wouldn't be standing here right now. You know that."

His words ring with logic and she swallows, closing her eyes for a moment as she regains her composure. She looks back up to meet his gaze. "If she wasn't on the warpath, why did she go see you?"

"She came to try to convince me that she's innocent. She made me promise to tell Henry that she won't stop until she clears her name."

No. Not after what Henry's just gone through. "I can't let you do that," she says. "I won't give him false hope. We both saw the evidence. We know she did it."

"I may not have your superpower," says Killian, taking a step closer to her, "but I am fairly skilled at recognizing a lie when I hear one. Regina seemed sincere. I'm willing to give her the benefit of the doubt."

"But the vision—" Emma protests. She wanted to trust her instincts, too, but her eyes don't lie.

"Could have been tampered with," replies Killian. "Regina suggested Gold may have done it, though with my influence over him I'm disinclined to believe that. But there are other magic workers in this town, of varying degrees of power, and many of them likely have reasons to want to ruin Regina. We have to consider the possibility that someone off our radar is behind this."

Emma looks away and rubs her head. This case just got a hell of lot more complicated.

~ ~ ~

Just as Killian expects, even under the command of the dagger Gold denies having altered the vision. He also insists that no one else did. He does, however, concede that there are a number of minor magic workers in town capable of magically disguising themselves as others for short periods of time. He writes out a list for Killian and Emma.

Emma tells Killian to go back to the funeral planning and insists on following up on the list herself. He doesn't like leaving her alone for these things, but he respects her wishes and heads back to Doris and Mary Margaret to finalize the plans.

When he texts Emma in the evening she has no good news, yet. She still wants to hold off on telling Henry until they have some new lead to follow. Killian understands. Though he wants to keep his promise to Regina, for him Emma's wishes will always come first.

The next morning he is too busy with the last-minute funeral preparations to help any further, but Emma has promised to bring David into the loop and enlist his help. That will have to be good enough.

~ ~ ~

Emma spends the morning questioning all of the nuns/fairies with David and getting absolutely nowhere. Nearly all of them have alibis for the time of the murder, and those that don't seem to have no serious personal grudges against Regina. The only thing that comes out of it all is a few new names added to their list of small-time magic workers that might have managed to disguise themselves as Regina.

In the mid-afternoon it's time for the funeral.

Emma hates funerals. She's been to three in her life—two for people she met during her years in the foster system, and then Graham's. Being back in the Storybrooke cemetery for another funeral so soon feels wrong.

She holds Henry's hand tight in her own as a few of Johanna's church friends sing a quartet, and then Killian steps forward for the eulogy. She can hear the genuine pain in his voice. He's been holding up well, but she knows Johanna's death came as a big blow to him. He has dark circles under his eyes.

Once they've cleared up this investigation once and for all, she's tempted to propose a weekend getaway, just the three of them—her, Henry, and Killian. Hopefully by then Gold will have worked out the "crossing the town line without losing your memory" thing, because she really wants to get away. And more and more, she wants Killian to come with her.

After the service they all head to Granny's for a potluck dinner and wake. Again, she keeps Henry close to her, reminding herself constantly of his vibrancy and life. She won't let anything bad happen to him. Ever.

Her eyes keep drifting to Killian. Even with the curse broken, he refrains from drinking with the others. It stirs her heart to see him staying solid in his choice and conviction, though his alcoholism was an invention of the curse. He may have been a pirate in the Enchanted Forest, but she feels deep down he must have been a good man all along, or he wouldn't still be who he is today. Though he's not the man she thought he was, she can see that in most ways he is still the very same man she was ready and eager to begin a relationship with just a few short weeks ago. That man and something more.

But the echo of David's advice still rings in her head: _"His past is very…very… troubling. Before you get too serious with him you need to have a good talk with him about it—clear the air. I just want you to go into this with your eyes wide open."_

Okay, David. Time to take your advice.

When the wake winds down a few hours later, she prepares to head home with her parents and Henry. But first she grabs Killian for a quick private word. "Hey—do you want to go for a drive with me, later? After Henry is asleep?"

Killian's eyes widen a small fraction, and he nods. "Certainly."

"Okay. I'll pick you up in about an hour."

~ ~ ~

Killian's stomach is twisted in knots by the time Emma arrives at his door. His common sense is telling him that she wants to talk about Regina and the case, but the look in her eyes when she approached him made him irrationally hope for something more. Perhaps another encounter like the one they shared in Granny's a few days ago.

She shows up with two tall coffee to-go cups in her hands. She presses one into his palm and gestures to her yellow bug. "Let's drive."

He settles into his seat beside her, still unsure of what this is. Finally he asks, "Are we going anywhere in particular?"

"Nope," she replies. "We're just driving. It helps me think. And I'm feeling restless. I just—I want to talk."

Killian nods slowly. This feels like an important moment, and he's not going to get ahead of himself. He waits, as patiently as possible, until she finally speaks again.

"I want things between us to go back to where they were before the shit hit the fan," she says. "I want a fresh start."

"There's nothing I want more," says Killian. A bold declaration, he knows, but he can't lie about this.

He sees her hands tighten on the steering wheel as she turns them down a winding country road on the outskirts of town.

"Okay," she says. "But first I need to trust you again. And I can't completely trust again until you tell me everything."

"Everything?"

She nods, steering around a bend. "Everything you told David, and everything you might have left out. Everything."

He takes a deep breath. He should have seen this coming. For some reason confessing his dark past to David had seemed easy. Perhaps because he'd only just experienced losing Emma—by far a more difficult burden to bear. Now butterflies of anxiety dance in his gut. She's right. If they are going to do this—if they are going to be together—she has the right to know all the dirty, dark truth. It is the only way to fully regain her trust.

He nods. "Everything."

~ ~ ~

After a little over an hour into Killian's stories Emma pulls over. She can't focus on the road anymore. His tale is too mesmerizing in all its twisted, painful meanderings.

She sees so much of herself in him.

She leans back in her seat and turns her head to watch him talk in the moonlight. His voice, even while telling of the darkest of deeds, is like music in her ears.

When he tells her the full truth of Milah—Gold's wife—and the years they spent together, he can hear the longing and regret in his voice. And when he speaks of her son, Bae, she can hear the anguish of loss.

"I was ready to love him as a son," he says softly. "But he wouldn't have me."

Now she understands why he gravitated so quickly to Henry—and to her. He hasn't just spent the past 300 years in search of vengeance over a lover, but over the loss of the family he always wanted and never had.

He moves on to his dark centuries in Neverland, and Pan's twisted games, the loss of most of his crew, and eventually the dark bargain he struck to win his freedom. 

None of it is pleasant. Far from it. But neither is he the kind of villain she's already encountered. He's no Cora or Rumple or Regina, and as far as she's concerned, he's paid as much a debt for his crimes as she did for hers. Perhaps even more.

"And so," he says, "I returned to the Enchanted Forest with what was left of my crew, a broken spirit, and no more idea how to get my hands on the Dark One's dagger than I'd had when I left. Time well spent, wouldn't you say?" Even in the dim light Emma can see the bitterness of his mocking grin.

She frowns. "I'm starting to understand why you want to believe Regina so badly," she says.

"Because I'm a villain, just like her?" he says, the loathing evident in his voice.

Emma reaches over and squeezes his hand. "No." She shakes her head. "Because she gave you an amazing gift when she brought you here."

He looks away and nods. "She did. She gave me peace, for the first time in centuries. Can you blame me for wanting to help her find the same?"

She can't.

She watches his breath puff like smoke in the air before him.

"It's getting cold out here," she says. "Let's head someplace warmer."

Given their track record in private spaces lately she doesn't trust herself alone in his place when they're tired and emotionally worked up, so she heads back to the loft. Naturally they can't go all the way in, but the stairwell is still considerably warmer than her car.

They sit on the stairs, she leans back with her elbows on the landing outside her door, and she prompts him to finish his tale.

The rest is about what she expected: a few years of debauchery in the Enchanted Forest before getting a lead on the dagger, then a final, brief yet violent attempt to complete his centuries-old mission. He ended up in the path of Regina and Cora, and the rest is history.

"… so I followed August and Gold out into the woods, learned the truth about August's identity, followed Gold to his new hiding place for the dagger and retrieved it once he was gone. I believe you know the rest," Killian concludes.

Emma nods and yawns a little. "Yep. Good thing, too. I'm about out of steam for the day."

"It has been an exhausting endeavor," says Killian, leaning over his knees and clasping his hands together in front of himself. "But well worth it, to regain your trust. Though what you must think of me now that you know the whole truth is something I can't imagine." The tone of self-loathing has crept back into his voice.

Emma reaches out to rest her hand on his arm. "Hey—I wasn't exactly a saint before coming to Storybrooke, either." She takes a deep breath. Yes, his past is troubling. But none of it—not one iota—changes who he is now. "I trust you, Killian. And I'm not going to live in the past. Ruby told me all about your _land of second chances_ speech, and that includes the both of us. Our lives gave us a raw deal, but here in Storybrooke we both have a second chance."

He holds her gaze like a lifeline, and her heart races.

He nods. "Thank you, Emma. I don't want to live in the past, either."

She smiles. Okay. So this is a starting point. She's not sure exactly where they'll go from here, but she's eager to find out. "Good."

They hold each other's gaze for a few more moments, and in spite of her exhaustion she can feel the electric tension building between them. She swallows hard. Now is hardly the time or the place. They'll have all the time in the world for this, later.

She pulls back and slips her phone out of her pocket. Her eyes go wide at the time. "Crap! It's three-forty-two in the morning."

Killian's eyebrows shoot up. "Have we really been talking that long?"

"Apparently. Wow."

She struggles to her feet and wobbles a little, catching herself on the wall. "I think I'll pass out the minute my head hits the pillow."

Killian stands. "You're far too tired to drive. I'll walk home."

Emma shakes her head. "No. You're just as tired as I am. Just…" She hesitates a moment. Oh—what the hell. It's not like her family doesn't already know something is going on between them. "Go ahead crash here tonight."

A little smirk forms on his mouth and his eyes darken. "A warm body to keep you company on a cold night?"

She's glad her old flirtatious Killian is still here after all the heavy conversation tonight. She rolls her eyes. "Hardly. Henry is asleep on a cot at the foot of my bed."

Killian's grin grows. "I can tip-toe."

Emma smiles back and shakes her head. "What you can do is sleep on the couch."

She heads for the door and sticks her key in the lock. She can feel his warm presence right behind her.

He's definitely sleeping on the couch—but that doesn't mean she can't enjoy a little goodnight kiss.

She spins to face him, and he seems to have the same idea as he draws even closer, his eyes locked on her face.

Lifting her hand she softly caresses his face, running her fingers over the late-night stubble, and parts her lips, inviting him closer.

He leans in.

The kiss in leisurely and soft—her hand on his face, and his in her hair. She runs her other hand up his firm chest, and he wraps his arm behind her, deepening the kiss. They keep things slow and dreamy. Neither have the energy for much intensity or passion. 

Still, a delicious heat flares in her core, radiating out. She melds against his body, savoring the feeling of him pressing up against her. 

Suddenly he slides his hand down from her hair to cup around her breast, his thumb lazily rubbing over her hard nipple through her thin sweater. Emma gasps and arches against him, the heat in her core throbbing. It's been a long time since she's wanted someone this much.

She gasps again when his lips travel down her neck and he pauses to suck lightly on her pulse-point. His hand begins inching lower.

Shit. 

"Killian," she whispers, fighting to repress her body's signals that urge her onward. "We can't have sex in the stairwell. Or in my apartment. Not like this. Not tonight."

He freezes, and, after moment of silence, drops his arms and takes a few steps back, nodding and swallowing hard. "Of course. Yes. Sleepy. Lowered inhibitions and all that."

Emma smiles, and is glad to see a smile on his face in return. "Yeah. Me too," she replies.

She quietly leads him inside and, after another (this time short and sweet) kiss, helps him get settled on the couch with a blanket before heading up the stairs to her own room.

The heat in her core has settled enough that her exhaustion quickly overtakes it, and soon she is asleep.

~ ~ ~

Killian wakes with a start to the sight of Mary Margaret and David leaning over him, bemused smiles on their faces.

He coughs a few times and stretches, sitting up. The couch is a bit too short for comfortable sleep and he has a hell of an ache in his back. After a swift attempt to smooth his hair he forces a smile. "I, uh, apologize for the intrusion. I was…that is, we were… well… you see…"

"You must have been up late _talking_ ," says David, folding his arms across his chest and wearing a smile that seems equal part friendly and menacing. Killian can't help but note David's emphasis on that final word.

"Yes. Talking. We had a great deal to discuss, given that we've not previously had an opportunity to converse about my history in other realms."

David nods slowly. "I see."

Mary Margaret offers a much friendlier grin. "Well, you're welcome any time, Killian. Would you like to stay for breakfast?"

"Oh, perhaps I should leave," he replies, about to stand when Henry comes bounding down the stairs with a blurry-eyed Emma trailing behind him.

Killian can't help but smile at the sight of her.

Her words from last night still dance in his head. _"I don't want to live in the past… we both have a second chance."_ And her kiss had left no doubt in his mind what that second chance would include.

In spite of all his mistakes and sins, God has seen fit to allow him this opportunity to find love and happiness again. He intends to make the most of it.

"Killian! Did you sleep over?" says Henry, galloping toward him.

"I was too tired to make my way home safely, so your mother kindly offered me the use of your couch," he replies, ruffling the lad's hair.

"Awesome. Do want to go check on the _Jolly Roger_ this morning?"

"Hey," says Emma sharply, "I know the past few weeks have been crazy, but today is a school day. I'm not about to let you start sloughing whenever you want."

Henry lets out an exaggerated sigh and nods. "Fine."

"How about some pancakes?" Mary Margaret interjects brightly.

Within minutes Killian is caught up in the bustle and swirl of the family breakfast time, with Mary Margaret making pancakes, David mixing up some juice and Henry sent off to dress for school.

Killian grins at the cozy familiarity of it all. He allows himself to wonder if he'll have the chance to share in mornings like this more regularly.

As if she can read his thoughts, Emma meets his eyes from across the kitchen and smiles. Killian's heart starts to race.

An unexpected knock sounds at the door.

"Huh," says Emma. "I'll get it."

As she steps toward the door it flings open of its own accord and Mr. Gold steps into the loft. He gazes directly at Emma.

"You remember that favor you owe me, Miss Swan?"

"Yeah?" she replies.

"I'm cashing it in."

Killian frowns. What in bloody hell…?

"It's not a good—"

Gold cuts her off, raising a finger. "You do honor your agreements, don't you?"

Emma's silence is her only answer.

"I need to find someone," says Gold. "So we're leaving today. Pack a bag."

This is more than enough. Killian strides toward the door, and Gold catches sight of him, his eyes going wide.

Killian frowns. "What the hell do you mean _leaving_?"

TBC


	20. Chapter 20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Still going! Writing is hard with my kids up in my face all summer, but I'm not letting this story go unfinished! Disclaimer: Lines of dialog from the show are quoted in this chapter – none of it belongs to me, etc.

Gold's eyes fill with anger and frustration as he catches sight of Killian striding toward him.

"Well?" Killian demands. He's not letting his old nemesis get away with this. "You haven't answered my question. You didn't expect to see me here. You meant to exploit another loophole in my orders and sneak out of town before I had a chance to stop you, didn't you?"

Gold plasters a bitter grin on his face and bows. "Congratulations, pirate. You succeeded in unraveling my nefarious plan. You do make yourself so easy to evade, but I confess, I underestimated your charms. I hadn't expected you to have so thoroughly seduced Miss Swan and her family that they'd welcome you for overnight stays, yet."

Killian frowns. The man shouldn't be talking this way in front of Henry. "Let's take this out in the corridor, shall we?"

"I'm fine right here, thanks." Gold rests both hands on the grip of his cane in front of him and plants his feet.

"Killian…" Emma's voice is soft in his ear and he can feel her fingers on his arm.

He turns to meet her gaze. "I know why he's here, Swan. He's determined to go find his son, whether the lad wants to be found or not. And I can guarantee you that the answer is most certainly _not_."

"You have no right to stand between me and my son," Gold interjects with a scowl.

"Don't I?" Killian retorts, rounding on the man. He takes another step toward him, his heart racing. He needs to control himself. He can't let his old anger get the best of him. He takes a deep breath. "First, tell me this—I asked you to work on a solution for crossing the town line that would work for everyone who wanted it. Did you succeed?"

The way Gold clenches his jaw is enough answer for Killian.

"Currently the only method I've found requires an individual talisman for each person—an object of significance from their life in the Enchanted Forest that survived the curse and now exists here in Storybrooke."

Not good enough. Killian shakes his head. "And just how many of the people here have such talismans?"

"I'd guess less than a third," Gold admits softly.

Killian's anger rises again. Not only was Gold trying to sneak out of town, he'd failed to produce the kind of spell Killian had demanded. "Not good enough. Not good enough by half."

David steps forward, raising a hand. "Hold on a minute—so you've tested this method of yours?"

After another glare at Killian, Gold turns to David. "I have. It works."

"Tested it on yourself, I hope," Killian says.

"Just as we agreed," says Gold. "And I will continue to work on a more universal solution, but not now. I've waited long enough. I won't wait any longer."

"You really have a son out there?" says Mary Margaret, and Killian clenches his fist knowing that he's lost the higher ground.

Emma nods. "He does. That was the point of this whole curse—of everything. It was all to get him to his son."

"And now the only thing standing between my son and me is a meddlesome pirate," growls Gold.

"What you're forgetting here," says Killian, trying to steer the conversation back to his original point, "is that your son doesn't want to be found."

"That is not for you to decide," Gold snaps.

"I spent more than two centuries with the lad in Neverland," replies Killian, memories of Baelfire flooding his mind. He'd wrecked his chance to build a family with the boy, but he won't fail him again. "I grant you that Bae and I were not on good terms for much of that time, but he never made any effort to hide his opinions of you from me. He has no desire to ever see you again."

Gold shakes his head. "You were stuck in a land where no one can ever really change or grow. Of course he still resented me—he was in a place where he could never move past that. But he's been in the land without magic for some time, now. His heart may have changed. As yours did." His last statement is launched like a barb, and it stings.

Killian won't be dissuaded. Bae does not want to be found. This is the final thing Killian can do to honor the lad and his mother. He won't back down. "I have it in my power to forbid you to leave. To forbid you to ever see your son again."

"Don't do this, Jones. Don't." There is a note of barely contained violence in Gold's voice.

"I will do what I have to do to protect Baelfire from you," Killian replies. He owes this to Bae. He owes it to Milah. 

"I should have killed you when I had the chance, instead of settling for your hand," Gold barks back.

His words make things easier. Killian points at the door. "Go back to your house. Go back to your house and stay there. I forbid you to leave it again without my permission. Go now!"

With a grimace on his face, Gold vanishes in a swirl of smoke.

"Killian! What are you doing?" Mary Margaret demands.

"How can you boss around Mr. Gold like that?" Henry asks, perplexed.

Killian squeezes his lips together. Emma and David already know most of his complicated relationship with Gold, but Henry and Mary Margaret are still in the dark. Henry, at least, should probably stay that way. "I'm the only one left in this world who can protect that boy from his father. I'm doing what I have to do."

"Killian—come talk to me in private for a minute." Emma's voice has a hard edge to it, and Killian gets a sinking feeling in his stomach. They made so much progress last night. This won't ruin things, will it?

He follows her out onto the landing and Emma closes the apartment door behind them. "Look," she says, folding her arms defensively over her chest, "I don't want to take Gold's side. I really don't. But—"

"But you are anyway," Killian says, shaking his head. Damn Gold. Damn him for stirring up trouble again.

Emma sighs. "I didn't want Henry to find me, either. I resented the parents that abandoned me. But finding them has changed me. It's changed everything. For the better. Maybe Gold's son doesn't want to be found, but that doesn't mean that a reunion will be bad for him. For either of them. Maybe it'll make Gold a little softer around the edges." She shrugs. "Anything is possible."

Killian can't believe he's hearing this. "So after everything he's done to you and your family—after everything he's done to this entire town—the curse, the terrorizing, everything—you think it fair to give him the very prize he abused us all for? To reward him for all his evils?"

Emma's look grows more pointed. "Is this really about protecting the boy, or is it about punishing Gold?"

"He deserves to be punished." Killian's words are just short of a yell. "You know what he's done. You know what crimes he's committed. He deserves to die for what he's done. If I hadn't gained a belief in Christ, he _would_ be dead. I'd have killed him weeks ago. He deserves to suffer like I've suffered."

Killian thought he'd purged all his old feelings when he shared his story with Emma last night, but now he can see that the well of pain inside of him is bottomless. He will never be over what Gold did to him. He squeezes his eyes shut and turns away from Emma. Inside he's still the broken pirate he was for all those centuries, and he knows she can see it.

His voice shakes. "The Bible teaches us to forgive—but I can't. I can't forgive him, Emma. I can't."

Emma comes up beside him and rests her hand on his arm again. "I get it. Really. I don't expect you forgive him."

Killian swallows hard and nods. "Thank you. But that doesn't solve our current dilemma, does it?"

Emma's lips are thin. She shakes her head.

Killian takes a deep breath. He can see clearly now. Gold will never give them any peace until he finds his son. He will make himself a constant thorn in Killian's side, reminding him of his pain and his hatred. As long as Killian clings to his control of Gold, he's also clinging to his temptation to seek vengeance and punishment—to inflict his own judgments on Gold, instead of leaving the final judgments up to his God.

There's only one solution.

"Emma—you have so many burdens already. I feel ashamed to ask you to take on one more."

"What is it?" she asks.

"As long as I have this dagger in my possession, I'll never be able to let go. I'll never be able to think clearly about Gold. Will you… will you take it for me?"

Emma holds his gaze for a few moments, hesitation in her eyes. Then she nods. "Okay."

~ ~ ~

"Are you sure about this?" Killian says for the third time, sitting in the passenger seat of her bug.

"Yep," Emma replies, still heading toward the town line. "I can't micromanage Gold. He needs his shot at making the most of his second chance on his own—no strings attached, just like the rest of us. But this will make sure he can't find the dagger with his magic, and no one else from town will be able to get at it, either. Except me, if we need it."

Killian sighs and nods. He's not a huge fan of the plan she concocted, but he has no better alternative.

Emma glances down at the dagger lying on a piece of canvas on Killian's lap. It amazes her that such a small thing can hold such vast power. There's still so much about this magic crap that mystifies her. Who knows if she'll ever really understand it?

She pulls over just before the town line. "Ready?"

Killian nods. "I'll wait here."

Emma gets out of the bug and retrieves the shovel she stuck in the back seat. Killian follows her out and hands her the dagger. His shoulders slump a little when she takes it from him. She can't tell if he feels relieved or disappointed. Probably a little of both. He leans against the bug and watches her as she hikes across the line and into the woods.

Emma walks for about five minutes, memorizing the landmarks as she walks. She needs to be able to find this spot again, if she needs to.

Finally she comes to a small glade with a cluster of bushes on one side and small boulder jutting from the earth. She'll remember this.

It only takes her a few minutes to bury the dagger. She covers the spot with a few fist-sized rocks. Then she brushes her hands on her jeans and carries the shovel back toward her car.

Emma feels a little apprehensive about turning Gold loose—especially with an unknown murderer still on the loose in Storybrooke. But she's confident David and Mary Margaret can hold down the fort for a few days. They have a hell of a lot more experience with this sort of thing than she does.

When she steps out of the woods near the town line she finds Killian pacing anxiously back and forth along the border. His hair looks like he's been tugging on it nervously.

After all his confessions last night she knows what a huge step this is for him. His quest for vengeance was all that kept him going for centuries. A person can't just drop that sort of thing overnight. But he is. Handing over the dagger—letting her bury it across the border—means that from now on vengeance is out of his reach.

He may not think much of himself, but Emma knows it takes a special kind of person to make a gesture like this. He's spent lifetimes longing for revenge, and new he's set it aside. Permanently. As far as Emma is concerned, that's a hell of a big deal.

He looks up to meet her eyes as she strides toward him. "Is it done?"

She nods. "It's done."

They drive back into town. After a few minutes of silence, Killian speaks. "I'm still worried about Baelfire. Gold will do anything he can to get the boy back under his thumb."

Emma shrugs, and tries to deflect his worries. "Well, if he's been in this world for a while, there's a chance he's a grown man, now. He might even be older than us. In that case, he can take care of himself."

"And if he's not? If he's still a teenage boy?" Killian replies. 

Emma understands his concern. She certainly wouldn't want Gold having anything to do with raising her son. She can't imagine how he'd be with a rebellious teen. Explosive is one word that comes to mind. "If he's still a teen, I'll protect him. I'll make sure Gold can't take advantage of him, and I'll make sure he has a home and an education. Either way, I'll make sure he's safe. I promise."

Killian nods. "I trust you." He still looks troubled, but she knows he means what he says.

She drops him off at his house and follows him up to his door.

Emma takes his hand and meets his eyes. "This is a good thing, Killian. You need to put your past behind you, and this was a huge step. It'll work out. I promise."

"I hope you're right. Letting go wasn't—" He catches himself and a self-effacing smile curls his lips. "— _isn't_ easy," he admits. "It'll take some time. But you're right. I need to put this behind me or I'll never really be able to move on. And I desperately want to move on." He sighs and offers her a bittersweet smile. "Every time we get close to each other, something comes along to get in the way, doesn't it?"

Emma smiles back. "The timing has been pretty crappy." She takes a step closer to him. Last night was powerful. For the first time since she got out of prison she's found a man she trusts completely. She knows all his secrets—the good and the bad—and he knows hers. She wants this. She's ready for the life Storybrooke is offering her. Life as a mother, a daughter, and a lover. She wants it all.

She raises a hand to caress his cheek. "When I get back, we're doing this thing for real. I'm ready."

"So am I."

He leans in and kisses her, wrapping his arm behind her back. She melts into his kiss, feeling fresh warmth surge through her body. God, she wants this.

After a moment she breaks the kiss. "Okay. I need to go talk to Gold. We need to leave today—he'll give us no peace until this is done."

"I had the same thought," Killian admits.

"I'll be back in a few days. I promise," she replies.

"Stay in touch," he says, a note of desperation in his voice.

"I will."

He watches her while she gets back in her car and drives away. Time to set Gold free and pay her favor back. She can't wait to be out of his debt.

~ ~ ~

Killian tries to work that afternoon, but the ability to focus evades him, especially after Emma texts to let him know that Henry will be accompanying her and Gold—just to "be safe."

With Regina still in hiding and a murderer on the loose, Killian understands the sentiment, but he doesn't trust Henry with Gold, either. But it's not his decision to make.

Late in the afternoon he receives an unexpected visit from Belle. He rises from behind his desk and invites her to sit.

"Thank you," she says, taking a seat. 

"What can I do for you, today, Belle?"

She looks at her hands in her lap and wears a tentative smile. "I came to thank you. For changing your mind and letting Rumple go."

Killian takes a deep breath. This isn't exactly something he's comfortable talking about, yet. He barely had the fortitude to give up the dagger in the first place, let alone accept gratitude for doing so. He shakes his head. "You owe your thanks to Emma, not me. She was the one who convinced me it was the right thing to do."

Belle meets his eyes, the corners of her lips ticking a little higher. "Well, you let yourself be convinced. And you have my thanks for it, whether you want it or not."

Killian squeezes his lips together and nods. "You are welcome." He still hasn't wrapped his mind around the enigma that is the relationship between Belle and Gold. Perhaps he never will.

"I…" she begins, and then hesitates.

Killian raises an eyebrow. "What is it?"

Her shoulders tense. "I didn't believe you, at first, when you told me that Rumple murdered his wife. I couldn't believe it. But later, after seeing the way he tried to twist and manipulate everything you asked him to do, I began to wonder. I finally confronted him about it. He tried to blame her death on you, but he never came right out and denied that he'd done it. I think he didn't deny it because he didn't want to lie to me—not directly." She takes a short breath, as if to gather her strength. "I believe you, now. I believe that he did kill her."

"I spoke the truth. I'm relieved you finally recognize that." Killian clenches his fist and taps it against the desktop. "You understand my concern for you? History has shown that a man willing to harm one romantic partner is much more likely to harm subsequent partners. I don't want that to happen to you, Belle. You deserve better."

Belle nods and blinks rapidly. "Thank you, for your concerns. I understand, and I appreciate them. But I'm not worried. He's changed so much since then, you see. He was new to the power of the Dark One, then. It had driven him half mad. That's why he let Baelfire go through a portal alone. That's why he killed his wife. It was the madness. He has so much more control, now. He is the master of his power, instead of letting the power master him. If he could go back as the man he is now, he would never do those things."

How can she be so blind? But he can't force her to face the reality of her situation. Unfortunately she'll have to learn it for herself if she's ever to believe. Until then, all he can do is be a friend. Killian clenches his jaw briefly before answering. "I would like to believe you, Belle. I truly would."

"Perhaps someday you'll see in him what I do," she replies. "Someday soon. I know finding his son will change him even more. It will give him the peace he's been searching for all these years. When he gets home, you'll see." Her smile lights up her whole face.

Killian represses a sigh of frustration and nods. "I do hope you're right."

She smiles and thanks him one last time before leaving. Killian slumps back in his chair, more frustrated than ever.

His day improves slightly when Mary Margaret calls to invite him to dinner. He accepts. He's glad for the company.

Over dinner she peppers him with questions about his life here in Storybrooke and his plans for the future. Killian gets the distinct impression that she's assessing his suitability as a potential son-in-law, and stirs nervously in his seat. David seems to be on his side, sending him frequent sympathetic glances.

As dinner comes to an end David finally steps in and changes the subject. "I was talking to the dwarves and Anton today in Granny's, and Anton had an interesting proposition. Apparently he brought a cutting of a magic-bean vine through to Storybrooke with him. He also filled a canteen with water from Lake Nostos before we left. He thinks he can use a little of the water to speed up the growth of the cutting and have a whole patch of magic beans growing before we know it."

Killian is dumbstruck, and he can see Mary Margaret shifting uncomfortably in her chair.

"Well, what do you think?" David asks, a little smile on his face. "I love the idea of going back to reclaim our kingdom. Of making it home, again."

From the way Mary Margaret is staring pointedly down at her plate, Killian suspects that she doesn't agree with her husband on this particular. He clears his throat. "Well, uh, I do think it's a bit of a tall order, mate. Especially when volunteers to help you with that task will be in short supply."

David narrows his eyes. "What do you mean?"

Killian rubs his ear. Clearly David has his heart set on the Enchanted Forest. He hates to be the one to break it to him that most of the town doesn't share his opinion. "You see, a good many people come talk to me in private about their troubles—part of my job." He shrugs. "And, uh, a common fear they've been sharing with me since the curse broke is a fear of someday having to go back."

David's brows knit. "People don't want to go back?"

"Most of them don't, no." Killian shakes his head. "It might have been all well and good back there for adventurers and royals, but for the common folk life here in Storybrooke is by far better than life in the Enchanted Forest. They're loath to give it up."

"Really?" David asks.

"Yes indeed," replies Killian, and Mary Margaret raises her eyebrows and nods, as if she knew this was coming.

Killian decides to elaborate. "How'd you like to give up life as a successful pediatrician with a large house, central air, cable television, and an SUV, and go back to being a poor laundry-maid in King George's castle? Or give up life as a respected and well-liked office manager to go back to being a prostitute? Or give up life as a small business owner to go back to being a lowly foot soldier?" Killian shakes his head. "I've got dozens of other stories like these, mate. Trust me—no more than a third of the citizens of Storybrooke want to go back. Perhaps less. It would be a hell of an undertaking. I don't recommend it."

David slumps in his chair, looking deeply disappointed.

"Uh—don't give up on the beans because of me, though," Killian adds. "You never know when they might come in handy. And perhaps, if we grow enough, an emigration could be done in slow stages. You know, send over a few war parties to clear ogres out of an area, then bring them back, then send work crews through. That sort of thing." 

David nods slowly. "Perhaps you're right."

"Or, on the other hand," says Mary Margaret, "perhaps some the survivors left behind in the Enchanted Forest would prefer to come here to Storybrooke. The beans would also be useful for that."

David frowns again.

Killian sits up straighter. "I don't want to get caught in the middle of a dispute here. I apologize for getting it started."

"No, it's alright," says David. "You've given me a lot to think about. In any case, we have lots of time to make these sorts of decisions while the beans grow."

A short time later David gets a panicked call from Leroy—there's been a car accident at the edge of town. Someone from outside drove across the line and ran off the road, crashing into a tree.

Without a second thought Killian pulls on his coat and follows David and Mary Margaret out to the truck. 

An outsider in town could change everything.

~ ~ ~

Emma is exhausted and flatly refuses to get going before nine in the morning, in spite of Gold's anxiousness. If he's waited this long, he can wait a few hours more.

She calls her parents to check in and her eyes go wide with shock as they spin her the tale of a stranger who crashed into a tree on the edge of town.

"It was touch and go for awhile when Whale disappeared," David says groggily, "but Ruby tracked him down and managed to talk him out of his depressed funk. So he came in, did the surgery, and saved the day. We're going back to the hospital in a few hours to talk to the guy—find out his name, why he's here, what caused the crash. The whole nine yards."

Emma rests her face in her hand and rubs her forehead. This day is off to a _stellar_ beginning. "Who is _we_?"

"Oh, you know, Mary Margaret, Killian, Ruby, maybe Leroy… Archie might be helpf—"

"I'm gonna stop you right there," Emma interjects. 

"Why?"

She shakes her head. "Because in real small towns the sheriff's deputy doesn't bring a whole committee of people with him to question someone. This guy knows nothing about Storybrooke, and we don't want him to get suspicious. The last thing you need is him seeing something magical and turning the place into a tourist attraction."

"Yeah. Got it," David replies. "So I go alone."

"Exactly. Wear the deputy badge. Go in acting as an official representative of the sheriff's office. Ask a few questions about the accident. Collect his contact information. And subtly encourage him to leave town as quickly as possible. Okay?"

"Got it. I know what to do."

Emma's gut stirs with worry as she finishes getting ready for the day, and she texts Killian a few pointers to remind David of before the questioning. He's got a good grasp on things—he should be able to help.

Then it's time to bustle Henry into a cab with Gold and head out looking for his long-lost kid.

Emma certainly doesn't expect that kid to run as soon as they buzz his apartment—though Gold asking her to chase him doesn't surprise her.

But she gets the shock of her life when she knocks him down and he raises his head to look at her.

Her heart contracts in chest and a wave of disbelief and rage washes over her. "Neal?"

The next few minutes pass in a blur as she shouts at him—hurling accusations that he knew who she was all along. That he and his father planned everything from the start. As soon as she mentions Rumplestiltskin's came the look on his face makes it clear that he really is who Gold says he is.

Neal is Baelfire.

Shit.

He insists that she come to a bar with him before he'll talk at any depth, and he buys her a beer, but she doesn't touch it. The last thing she wants is to drink a beer at ten thirty in the morning with the man who framed her for his crime and then left her alone and pregnant in prison. He doesn't deserve that kind of civility.

When he reveals that he only found out her fairytale identity when August tracked him down the anger and pain welling in her chest throbs, almost overwhelming her.

_This_ is the man she cried over for years on end? The man she waited almost two years in Tallahassee in hopes of seeing again?

If he'd ever really loved her the way she loved him fear of his father never would have sent him running—and he certainly wouldn't have abandoned her in jail.

She shakes her head and squeezes her eyes closed. An image of Killian's face flashes in her mind. Killian never would have done something like this. She knows that with a certainty. He would do anything to help her—to protect her. Once the right time came he told her all his secrets, no matter how damning they seemed. He stood by her no matter how hard things got. He would have _died_ for her—and very nearly did. Above all else, he loves Henry. She knows he does. 

He's the sort of man who would make an amazing father.

She opens her eyes again, seeing Neal in a new light. Now that she has someone to compare him to, he seems cowardly, weak and manipulative.

"Are you telling me," she says, giving him one last chance to explain himself, "that us meeting was a coincidence? Because how the hell did that happen if it wasn't in your plan or your father's?"

"Think about it," Neal says softly. "He wanted you to break the curse. Us meeting, that could have stopped it. Maybe it was fate."

She can't believe what she's hearing. "You believe in that?"

"You know, there's not a ton about my father that I remember that doesn't suck, but he used to tell me that there are no coincidences. Everything that happens, happens by design and there's nothing we can do about it. Forces greater than us conspire to make it happen. Fate, destiny, whatever you want to call it. The point is, maybe we met for a reason. Maybe something good came from us being together."

He holds her eyes, and Emma's heart freezes. _Henry_. He doesn't deserve a relationship with his son—any more than Gold deserves a relationship with _his_. Maybe Killian was right. She never should have helped Gold come here. She should have left him trapped in Storybrooke to suffer for his crimes.

She shakes her head. "No," she whispers. "Not that I can think of. I just went to jail. That's it." She looks away from his eyes and stands up. "Doesn't matter now. I'm over it. And you."

He glances at her chest. "Why do you, uh, wear the keychain I got you?"

Her anger swells again. He's trying to manipulate her. To play on her emotions. She shakes her head again. "You spent so much time running from your father, but you turned out so much like him."

Neal's face darkens in anger. "What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

She sighs. "Nothing. Forget it." She fingers the keychain for a moment, and then yanks it off, snapping the chain. She places it on the bar in front of him. "I wore it to remind myself never to trust someone again. But I don't need it anymore. I have someone in my life now that I trust completely. And now that I know who you really are, I can put it behind me once and for all."

Emma turns to head out of the bar, ignoring Neal's hurt expression. He deserves to feel some pain—though she knows it will be only a fraction of what she's felt for him over the years. "Come on. I made a deal with your father I'd bring you to him."

Neal looks shocked. "You made a deal with him?"

"Yeah. And I'm upholding my end."

"Emma—you know you don't have to." He looks genuinely worried now.

Good. "I know."

Neal manages to talk her into lying to his father. (Hiding. Running. He still hasn't given up his old ways.) Emma heads out to find Gold and Henry hoping she never has to see Neal again.

Her head is spinning with everything she's learned over the last half an hour. All the old pain—all the anger—and how even in the midst of it she still remembers how desperately she loved him.

But someone who loves you back shouldn't hurt you like that. Someone who loves you back shouldn't betray you. She stops to lean against a railing, thinking of Killian again.

"Shit," she mutters under her breath.

She spent all of yesterday morning convincing him to give up on vengeance and let Gold have a shot at his second chance. _But Neal doesn't deserve a second chance with Henry!_

A lump rises in her throat. She's not so sure _she_ deserved a second chance with Henry, either. But she got one. Killian would probably tell her the same thing that she told him—give the man his second chance.

But that's not what she wants to hear. So she calls Mary Margaret instead. She cries as she talks, confessing everything, including her desire to protect Henry behind the lie she already told him. But Mary Margaret urges her to embrace the truth, just like Killian would have. 

Shit, shit, shit.

She rejoins Gold and Henry, still spinning her lies, not ready to let go yet. But Gold will have none of it. He's too desperate to find his son.

He forces his way upstairs and into Neal's apartment. There, Emma's gaze is arrested by the sight of an old dream catcher that she and Neal got together all those years ago. If he kept it, it means that his memories of her were still important to him.

No. That doesn't matter, now. At least—it shouldn't.

But it's already too late—Gold notices her interest in the dream catcher and starts yelling at her—insisting that she knows something. Emma sends Henry to wait in the bathroom. She tries to reason with Gold, but he sees right through her lies.

He starts yelling—threatening. Emma readies herself for a fight. She's sure she can take him, but she doesn't want to attract the attention of the neighbors—or the police. 

Just as Gold advances on her, Neal bursts through the door. "Hey. Leave her alone."

Gold falls back against the wall, stunned at the sudden reunion. He finally has what he's wanted all these years.

However, when Henry comes back into the room, Emma is confronted with exactly what she wanted to avoid—and things only get more complicated.

~ ~ ~

Killian answers his phone halfway through the second ring when he sees that it's Emma calling. Perhaps her task is already done and she and Henry are on their way home.

"Emma?" he asks eagerly.

"Killian." He can hear her voice shaking with emotion.

His heart stops. "What's wrong? Did something happen to Henry?"

"No. Yes. I just… Killian… " 

He waits, giving her time to work through her emotions. Clearly something big has happened.

"We found Baelfire," she says softly. "And he's _him_. Neal. Baelfire is Neal."

"Neal?" The name sounds familiar, and Killian searches his brain.

"You know— _Neal_ Neal. The one. The one who left me. He's—"

"Henry's father," Killian says, the memory finally surfacing. He sinks back into his chair, bewildered. "Baelfire is Henry's father?"

"Yeah." Emma's voice shakes with tears.

"How is this possible?"

"I don't know," she says breathlessly. "He thinks it's fate or destiny. I don't know. It wasn't Gold's plan, or his, or anyone else's. But it's real. It's him. He's Gold's son and Henry's dad. And now he wants nothing to do with Gold, but he also wants a relationship with Henry, and Henry is furious with me, and I don't know what to do."

Killian squeezes his eyes shut, his heart aching in his chest. "It's like something out of a dream," he says.

"Tell me about it. A _bad_ dream."

Killian takes a deep breath. "I can hardly believe it. The Baelfire I knew was stubborn with honor and integrity. He'd never have left the woman he loved to be imprisoned for his crimes."

"Well, this world must have changed him, then, because that's exactly what happened."

Killian swallows the lump in his throat. How could Bae have become this strange man who would dare to rip Emma's heart to shreds like that? How? He takes a deep breath, trying to control his fury. "Why is Henry angry?"

"Because I lied to him. Remember? I told him his dad was a fireman who died a hero. I lied to him to protect him. Just like you lied to me when you first got your memories back. We're two of a kind, you and me." He hears her huff in hollow amusement. "It took me weeks and a trip to the Enchanted Forest to forgive you. What'll it take Henry to forgive me?"

"Not nearly so much, I'm certain of it," Killian says instantly. "That boy worships the ground you walk on. He's hurt now, but give him a few days. He'll get over it."

"Are you sure?" He hears the desperate hope in her voice.

"Yes," he replies. "I am."

"What did you do to help me forgive you?" she asks. "I can't even think right now."

Killian takes a deep breath. "Well, I stood by you through all your troubles, for one. And I started telling you the truth—all of it, as often as I could. If you do the same with Henry, I'm sure you'll be back in his good graces in no time."

"I hope you're right," she replies.

"I know I am," Killian says with confidence. Henry went through too much to find his birth mother to turn on her so easily.

"Okay. Thank you. I needed that." He hears her draw in a deep breath. "I need to go deal with all this, now. I probably won't be able to call you again until tomorrow."

"It's alright. I understand. Go. Be with your son."

They say their goodbyes and hang up.

Killian wishes he could have told her how much he loves her—how nothing will shake that love. But he knows she's still not ready to hear that. He needs to be patient.

He tries to return to his normal work, but can't focus at all. His mind is too consumed by questions—mostly about how the Baelfire he knew and cared for could have become this "Neal" who hurt Emma so dreadfully.

After a time he gives up working in his office and heads to his ship to help the crew working on the restoration. Perhaps a little manual labor in the fresh sea air will help clear his mind and clarify his thoughts.

Even after many hours of work, his sleep that night is still troubled.

The next day, after a long run, he is on the way back to his home when a voice calls from the trees, "Nice day for a jog, Father."

He turns to meet Regina's eyes. "It is. And how are you faring, today, Your Majesty? Have you made any progress in clearing your name?"

"I have," she replies, stepping out of the shadows toward him. "I know exactly who framed me."

Killian steps toward her, raising his eyebrows. "Really? Who?"

"Come and find out," she says, a strange smile on her face.

A swirl of purple smoke surrounds him and he blinks his eyes rapidly. When the smoke clears, he finds himself standing in a dimly lit warehouse.

"Hello, Hook. It's a pleasure to see you again." Cora steps forward, smiling at him. Regina stands beside her.

His heart races in his chest. It's not possible. Cora is supposed to be dead.

"Surprised to see me?" she says. "Fortunately for me I could sense Rumple's trap for me falling just as I reached the opening of the portal. I seized the opportunity to blast you all unconscious and get away before you could notice I'd survived. It was a more perfect disguise for my presence here than I ever could have fabricated on my own. I owe Rumple my thanks."

As she speaks, Killian's eyes drift to a chair behind the two witches. Belle sits in the chair, bound to it hand and foot. Her face is cut and bruised, her hair in disarray.

She meets his eyes as he looks at her.

"I'm sorry," she whimpers. "I didn't want to tell them. But she had my heart. I had no choice."

"Tell them what?" he asks, his heart sinking in his chest. There will be no escape. Not from these two. 

"Why, the location of Rumplestiltskin's dagger, of course," says Cora, crossing her arms and stepping toward him. "I need you to give it to me. Now."

Tbc


	21. Chapter 21

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Long one. But I hope the final scene will make it all worth it. Disclaimer: Lines of dialog from the show are quoted in this chapter – none of it belongs to me, etc.

Killian squeezes his fist tight at his side and clamps his teeth shut as Cora advances toward him.

She arches an eyebrow. "I believe I just made a request. Don't try my patience, Hook. You know exactly what I'm capable of when I'm unhappy. The dagger. Now."

He draws a deep breath through his nostrils and shakes his head. Cora won't give him any chance to act. His only hope is words. Not directed at Cora, of course, but at Regina. Turning his eyes to Regina, he speaks.

"Why? Why are you doing this, Regina? I told Emma the truth, and she believes you. She wants to help you prove your innocence, and now you have the real culprit. So why are you teaming up with her? If you ever want a place in Henry's life—"

"I'm doing this to get my place in Henry's life back," says Regina, her face tight with pain. "He is _my son_ , and Emma is taking him away from me."

"And you honestly think he'll forgive you after you've returned to your villainous ways? After you've used the dagger to—what, order all your enemies killed by Gold's hand?"

The way Regina's expression falters tells Killian that this is exactly the plan Cora proposes. He swallows hard. No. He can't allow it. Never. No matter what it costs him. "Don't do this, Regina. You know it will haunt you forever. Henry will discover the truth. He'll never forgive you—"

"He'll never know the truth," Cora snaps.

"You'd tamper with your own son's memories?" Killian asks, holding Regina's gaze. He can see her eyes faltering—he knows he's getting to her. He just needs a little longer…

"Enough of this small talk," Cora cuts in, frowning. "Don't listen to him, darling," she throws over her shoulder to Regina. "He's only trying to confuse you. Our plan will work perfectly. But first, we need that dagger." She steps toward him, her arm outstretched.

Killian leaps back, dodging her thrusting arm. With narrowed eyes she waves her hand, using a blast of magic to fling him back against the wall. Tendrils of creaking metal sprout from the walls and snake over his arms and legs, pinning him in place. He strains and struggles against the bonds, but it is no use.

Cora ambles toward him, the corners of her lips curving upward. "Such a pity you're not interested in renewing our old partnership, Hook. You could have been a valuable ally, and received a great reward for your trouble."

"I'll never help you. And you'll never get the dagger. Not as long as I live to stop you." He knows his threats are vain. There's only so much he can do against her. But he intends to hold out for as long as he can. He'd rather die than break and betray Emma. He'll play no part in giving Regina and Cora the means of their planned massacre.

"I told you, Mother," says Regina, sounding weary, "he's in love with the Savior. He won't help us. Not willingly."

"Such a pity," Cora repeats, shaking her head. "You've left me no choice, Hook. We'll have to do this the hard way."

She pulls back her hand, and then thrusts it forward, jabbing her fingers into his chest. Sudden stabbing pain radiates from under his sternum outward through all his limbs, and a cry rips from his throat.

He can feel her fingers closing around his heart—squeezing. Not even the pain of losing his hand compares to this, and another cry escapes his lips.

"Where is the dagger?" Cora's words pierce him and a vicious compulsion to speak pushes on him, squeezing his lungs as he fights to hold back.

Images of the town line and the woods rise through the haze of pain clouding his mind and he feels the words forming on the tip of his tongue, but he clamps his teeth tighter, fighting to hold back.

"Where is Rumplestiltskin's dagger?" Cora repeats, more intensity in her voice.

The pain throbs through every part of his body, and the image of Emma walking away into the woods pounds at his skull. He squeezes his teeth together, tasting hot blood in his mouth, and fights to hold back his words. The truth fights to escape, even as he fights to hold it back.

_Can't. Won't. No._

The pain flares even higher, blinding him.

_A half-truth. Anything to ease the pain. A half-truth will do it._

"I don't know!" he cries. "I don't know where it is!"

"Don't lie to me!" Cora shouts back. "Where is the dagger!"

White hot flames burn at every inch of his body, and his chest is being crushed by an anvil. He won't last long. Screams fill the air around him, and the small part of him that can still think knows they must be coming from his own mouth.

He has to make it stop. He has to.

That last rational portion of his brain clings to his memory of Emma's face. He won't betray her. He won't.

"I don't have it!" he cries. "It's gone. I don't know where it is."

With a sudden jerk, Cora pulls her hand from his chest, leaving his heart in place.

The burning pain vanishes, leaving behind it a dull ache and a heavy exhaustion. Killian sags in his bonds, suddenly aware that his throat is raw from his screams, and his cheeks wet with tears.

But he did it. He held out.

This time.

"Let him go," he hears Belle sob. "You heard him. He doesn't have it. It's gone. Please—let us both go."

Killian squeezes his eyes shut and breathes deeply, trying to regain his strength. He needs to be ready for whatever new torture Cora devises for him.

"Was he telling the truth?" he hears Regina ask softly.

"Yes—no one could resist that compulsion. But it makes no sense. All he wanted—all he lived for—was revenge. It's impossible to believe that he'd have the tool of that revenge, and then simply lose it. He's still hiding something. We'll get it out of him somehow."

"Wait."

Killian opens his eyes, hearing something in Regina's voice that sounds promising.

She is frowning, and her hand rests on Cora's shoulder. "Let's visit his house and search it. We might find some trail there that will lead us to the dagger."

Cora raises an eyebrow. "Have you gotten squeamish after all these years in a world without magic?"

Killian's heart races. Could one of their spells lead them to the town line? He hopes Emma hid the dagger well.

Regina shakes her head. "Not at all. But, whether I like it or not, the pirate is one of Henry's friends. I'm loath to harm him too much. Perhaps we could do as the Dark One's wench suggests, and turn them loose. With their memories of this encounter wiped, of course."

"No," says Cora, her voice hard. "If our search turns up nothing, they might still be of use to us. But we'll search first. I trust my magic to find a trail more than I trust that pirate to utter a word of truth."

Killian closes his eyes again, sighing in relief. Time. This will give him and Belle more time.

After a few more moments he hears a whooshing sound and opens his eyes to find the witches gone.

There is a chance they'll somehow find a trail he left with Emma yesterday—but there's also a chance they won't. And if they don't, they'll be back for another round of questions. He's survived torture before. He can prepare himself to survive it again. But Belle…

Killian turns his eyes to her. "Are you alright?"

"I've been better," she replies, forcing a smile. "But there's no permanent damage."

Killian nods. Good. He eyes her chair carefully. The ropes at her wrists and ankles are thick and tight, but the chair itself isn't fixed to the floor. "Can you move your chair at all?"

Belle tilts her head and frowns. She bites down on her bottom lip and pushes with her feet experimentally. The chair wobbles and scoots a few centimeters. 

She sighs. "I'll fall if I do much more than that."

"Don't worry about falling—as long as you can fall sideways. Look around the room. We need to find something sharp. Anything that might be able to cut your bonds. This might be your only chance."

Belle swallows hard and nods. 

After a few minutes of squinting through the dim light and evaluating several possibilities they agree that a worn pipe jutting from the wall at ankle level about fifteen feet away from Belle is the best of the options.

"It'll take some time. Don't worry. Go as slow as you need, love," Killian says. "I imagine they'll be searching my house for a good long while before they return. You can do this."

Belle nods and clenches her jaw. Slowly she begins rocking and scooting her chair toward the pipe.

~ ~ ~

The previous evening, hovering on the fringes with Gold while Neal and Henry "bond," has been repeating itself all morning.

Emma hangs back with Gold on the bustling New York street while Neal and Henry step into a pizzeria for a slice.

Seeing Neal again is stirring up so many feelings. The pain of losing him is as sharp and fresh as it was that night she was arrested. No matter how many times she reminds herself that she has someone better in her life now, the aching memory of how much she loved Neal keeps rearing up at the most unexpected times.

This is the last thing she needs. All she wants is to get Henry back to Storybrooke and get on with her life with her family and Killian. Neal should have no bearing on that. But he does—as Gold not so subtley reminds her when he asks her to convince Neal to come back to Storybrooke with them.

When Emma tells him that she's paid off all her debts to him, he says, "This isn't about me anymore. You'll do it for Henry."

"How do you figure that?"

"Oh, because if you don't, you'll wake up one morning to discover he's hopped on a bus back to New York. He ran away to Boston for you. He'll do the same thing for his father."

"Until Neal lets him down. Which he will." She feels confidant on that point. "Then it'll be a hard lesson, but at least Henry will know that I lied to protect him." Killian's words— _I stood by you through all your troubles… I started telling you the truth—all of it, as often as I could_ —ring in her ears. She knows in her heart that this will be a quicker method to winning Henry's forgiveness than waiting for Neal to break his heart, but she still needs to brace herself for that second possibility. It'll happen sooner or later.

Still, Henry's continuing reminders of her lie hurt her heart as they go on with their tour of New York with Neal. She wishes she could go back in time and tell him the truth. Hurting him then would have been better than facing his anger now. But there's no going back. She can only work to make things better in the future. But Neal showing his true colors certainly won't hurt matters…

Except that looks like it might take a long time. So far he seems determined to be a good pal to Henry. Unexpected, but not bad, when she tries to look at things objectively. But objectivity isn't her strength. She just grits her teeth and bears it as Neal makes small talk and even as Henry tries to bond with Gold.

As they walk, Neal tells her that there's something he needs to admit to her—something important about his life—but Henry interrupts before he gets a chance. They head to the museum with Emma stewing the whole time about whether or not Neal's secret (which she _will_ get out of him later) will make things with Henry better or worse.

~ ~ ~

In spite of how pointless he knows it to be, Killian twists and strains against the metal bonds holding him to the wall. He feels so helpless watching Belle's struggle to escape.

After a few feet of careful scooting she accidentally tipped her chair, and had to struggle the rest of the way inching along with the fingers of one hand and the toes of one foot, grunting in pain as she went. She's reached the pipe, now—just at the periphery of Killian's vision. He hears her whimpers of frustration as she strains to wear through her ropes on the sharp edge of the pipe.

"Patience, darling. Just a little longer, and I know you'll get it," he calls, wondering if his reassurance will do any good or if it will only frustrate her even more.

He takes a deep breath and closes his eyes. There's a very high chance that he'll be dead before the day is out. He needs to prepare himself for that.

Killian doesn't want to die. Not now that he's found Emma and Henry. Not now that he has a chance at a happy life.

But if his death will help protect the people he cares about, it's a price he's willing to pay. He's already lived longer than any man has the right to. And he's found his God and his peace, which is more than many folk get. He'll try to be grateful.

Belle, on the other hand, shouldn't have to pay this price. She's done nothing to bring this on herself but fall in love with the wrong man. That's no reason to die.

As much as his pride hates to admit it, there is only one thing he can do to help her now. Humbling himself, he bows his head and quietly prays. "Help her, Lord. Give her the strength and speed that she needs to free herself. Spare her the consequences of my sinful quest for revenge. Please, if it be your will, Father, help her cut her bonds. Help her gain her freedom and safety."

He swallows hard, fighting back the lump of pain that rises in his throat as his thoughts turn to Emma. He prays for several minutes more, pleading with his God to bless and protect Emma and her family. To give them the strength they need to defend themselves from their enemies. And at last, he turned his prayer to Regina. "Soften her heart, Father. Help her to see that Emma and her family are ready to offer her forgiveness. Please Father, help her find her own peace."

With that he sighs and opens his eyes to look over at Belle. Her chair shifts on the hard floor as she rubs her bound wrist against the pipe as best she can. A moment later she lets out a cry of triumph. "I've got it! My hand is free!"

Craning his neck to look, Killian sees her waving her arm. "Well done, lass! Quick now, finish the job. You're almost out." He grins. At least one of them will find freedom today.

With the aid of her free hand Belle manages to get out of the other bonds in a matter of minutes. After rubbing her sores wrists and ankles a moment, she stands, wobbling a little, and then jogs over to Killian and tugs on the metal bands holding him against the wall.

He shakes his head. "I appreciate the effort, darling, but it's no use. These won't come free. You've got to go. Save yourself."

"You're here because of me," says Belle. "I won't leave without you."

"You must, or we're both lost. They've been gone a good long time now—they could be back at any moment. You need to get out. Go for help. Find David or Mary Margaret. Tell them what's happening. Tell them to bring Mother Superior with them—any magic they can muster will help. That's your best chance of getting me out of here. Go, Belle. Go."

"But what if Regina comes back before I do?" Belle says, tears standing in her eyes.

Her goodness will never cease to astonish him. "Let me worry about that. You worry about yourself, right now. Go, Belle. I'll manage. Just go."

She squeezes her lips together and nods. "Okay. I'll be back as soon as I can."

"I know you will," Killian says. He doesn't have to force his smile—Belle brings it out of him, regardless of the circumstance.

She nods firmly one last time, and then turns and runs to the door. It slides open without much effort, and she slips away.

Killian sighs in relief. Now all he can do is wait. Wait, and pray.

~ ~ ~

When Henry wanders forward to look at an exhibit of fish fossils more closely, Emma tugs on Neal's arm. "Hey—do you have a sec?"

He nods and hangs back by her. "Yeah. What's up?"

"Just…" she takes a breath, "… before we decided to come here, outside the pizzeria, you wanted to tell me something. You said it was important?"

He looks down from her gazes and nods. "Uh, yeah. Yeah. Actually—it's something about my life. Something you and Henry need to know for the, uh, future."

"What is it?" Emma asks, frowning. She braces herself for the news—he's on parole and can't leave New York. Or he's a fugitive in Maine. Or some other equally disappointing scenario. She clenches her teeth, holding her breath.

He looks back up. "You see, I'm, uh, engaged. I've got a fiancée."

Emma can feel her eyes go wide, and her jaw drops a little. "You're getting married?"

This, of all the unbelievable things that have happened since yesterday, feels the most surreal. Neal—Mr. runs-away-from-all-responsibility—is getting married?

He smiles. "Yeah. I mean, we haven't set a date, or anything. But yeah. I am. Her name's Tamara. She's—she's really great. I want to introduce her to Henry as soon as we figure out how to explain all this. If he's going to be in my life, then he's going to be in hers, too."

Wow. Emma blinks a few times, trying to process. So now— _now_ —after all these years, he's ready to settle down. Eleven years too late. She bites her tongue and shakes her head. No. She's not going to let her anger get the best of her. So he's moving on with his life. Fine. Good. So is she.

"Y—Yes. Of course. I get it. But we will have to get our story straight. Especially if you guys ever want to visit us in Storybrooke." Emma nods.

"Or you could stay in New York?" Neal says, putting on the smile that used to make her heart flutter. Now it only makes her feel sick and worried. "This is a great place, and now that you broke that curse you don't have to stay in Maine. You can get away from all that. Start fresh without anything hanging over you."

For a brief moment the thought of escaping the burden of magic and destiny and being a savior feels deeply tantalizing. But then her mind turns to Mary Margaret and David—and to Killian.

Emma shakes her head. "No. I've got a family in Storybrooke, now. I need—I _want_ —to get to know them better. For the time being, that's where I belong. And so does Henry."

Neal looks down again, shoving his hands in his coat pockets, and shuffles his feet. "Yeah. I get it. You always did wish for a family, didn't you?"

The reminder that Neal knew exactly how much he was hurting her when he sent her to jail makes her clench her teeth again. She can't even answer him—not when she feels like this—like her anger could explode at any moment.

"Besides," he adds with an air of forced casualness, "didn't you tell me that you're seeing someone, now, too?"

She squeezes her lips together at the puppy-dog-eyes Neal gives her. Is he seriously pulling a jealous act now? Right after telling her about his fiancée? "Yes. I do. He's from there—Storybrooke, the Enchanted Forest, whatever. So there's no lies between us. He knows everything about me, and I know everything about him." She nods, narrowing her eyes at Neal's obvious discomfort. "It's good. The honesty. And it's still pretty new, but I think things are headed in a serious direction. So, yeah. It's good."

Neal swallows hard and shuffles his feet again. "That's good. I'm happy for you."

"I'm happy for you, too," Emma says with a forced smile. She's grateful when Henry comes back to grab Neal's hand and lead him to the next exhibit.

~ ~ ~

Cora and Regina return less than ten minutes after Belle makes her escape and Cora immediately flies into a rage. "Where is she? Where?"

"Not here," replies Killian in a clipped voice. "You need to start remembering that us lower beings without magic have our own methods for getting things done."

Cora strides up to him and slaps him across the face.

His head hits the wall and his cheek smarts, but he can take it.

Regina walks toward him more slowly. "It wasn't at your house, obviously. We found traces of the dagger all over town. At the sheriff's station. Your house. Your car. Granny's. Near _Graham's grave_." Regina shakes her head. "How could you leave it there? How dare you disturb him?"

"So you _did_ care. I often wondered," Killian replies.

Regina's eyes glisten with emotion.

Cora's second slap hits his face unexpectedly, and he winces. 

"You carried the dagger all over town. You can't honestly expect me to believe you _lost_ it, can you?" Cora's voice has taken on a shrill tone.

"That's exactly what I expect you to believe," Killian replies.

Cora holds out her hand, open palm up, and with a small swirl of purple smoke a wicked looking hunting knife appears in her hand. Without hesitation she grips it, advances on him, and slashes him across the chest. 

He cries out, and a long line of red appears across his gray exercise tee-shirt, the wound throbbing with pain. 

Cora places the tip of the knife against his cheek, just under his left eye.

"You're hiding something from me. You're going to tell me what it is, or I will leave you in agony as I extract every last drop of blood from your body before I let you die." She digs the point of the knife into his skin and slowly drags it down his cheek. He grits his teeth to strangle his cry.

He knows that Cora means what she says. This won't be an easy death. But he must endure it—to the very end. For Emma's sake. For all of them.

Cora moves the blade to his arm, but before she can dig it in, Regina's voice cuts the air. "Mother!"

Cora turns to look at her daughter.

With a frown, Regina stalks toward them. "By now Belle has alerted half the town to your presence. And if you don't want unexpected company soon, we should leave this place. Go somewhere more secure."

Cora nods. "You make a good point. I want a little more private time with our dear pirate before we're interrupted."

As the cloud of purple smoke overtakes him, Killian lets go of his last hope of rescue.

At least Belle is safe and the dagger is out of Cora's reach. That will have to be enough.

~ ~ ~

They are almost done at the museum when Emma's phone rings. It's David. She frowns. She knows he wouldn't call her today unless something was seriously wrong.

"Hey, what's up," she says, answering her phone and stepping into a corner.

"I'm sorry, Emma," David says, and the tone of his voice makes her heart sink. Something bad is going on.

"What happened? What is it?"

"Cora is alive—in Storybrooke," he says. "She faked her death. And she and Regina have Killian."

Emma's breath freezes in her chest. "What do you mean they have Killian?"

Nothing David says makes her feel any better. Kidnapping. Torture. Searching for the dagger. No. No no no no. She paces back and forth. 

"Ruby's tracking him right now. With the fresh blood it should be easy—"

"There's blood?" Emma says in a shrill whisper. 

Regina wouldn't kill Killian. Henry would never forgive her. She knows that. She can't… A sob rises in her throat. She coughs to push it aside. "Have you tried Regina's house?"

"Yes," replies David. "No luck."

Emma rubs her forehead. Why did she leave? Why? She didn't have to help Gold. It was so stupid. "The crypt!" she says suddenly. "Have you tried the Mills family crypt? I think there might be a hidden room or something inside."

"We'll try there next. I'll call you as soon as we find anything."

"Okay," says Emma. "Okay." She hangs up and stares at her phone, feeling lost.

"Emma?" Henry's voice catches her ears.

She looks up to see Henry and Neal staring at her with Gold just behind them.

"Emma—what's wrong?" Neal asks.

Everything. Everything is wrong. "We need to get back to Storybrooke," she says. "Now."

~ ~ ~

Killian's scream fills the small stone-walled room as the hammer Cora conjured strikes another of his fingers, shattering the bones.

He no longer knows whether the moisture on his face is blood or tears.

He could handle the cuts from Cora's knife—but then she started in on his hand. She knew exactly how to get to him—how to strike closest to his heart.

He may be a quivering mess, but at least he's kept the location of the dagger a secret. For that, at least, he still retains some small amount of pride.

Cora shakes her head. "Only your thumb left, captain. And you still won't talk? Just a few simple words will end all your pain. I'll give you a quick death. I promise."

It would be so easy. But it would spell doom for everything and everyone he still cares about. Killian manages a slight shake of his head where he lays chained to the floor. "Never," he croaks through cracked lips.

"Very well," says Cora. "But you brought this on yourself." She raises the hammer again.

"Mother—stop!" Regina's voice cuts through the haze of pain in Killian's mind. "We've gone too far. We have to end this."

Killian closes his eyes and manages a few breathes. Is it possible that he still has reason to hope?

He hears Cora stand. "Kill him now? When he hasn't even told us what he's hiding?"

"No," says Regina. "Not kill him at all. Whether I like it or not, he's Henry's friend. I can't take my son's friends from him. We can heal him and wipe his memories."

"Not when Belle still knows the truth," replies Cora. "Once we have the dagger we can make all these problems go away. I promise—Henry will never remember his friendship with the pirate. We can make it as if the man never existed."

"Why are you so obsessed with that dagger, Mother? The two of us together can defeat Gold without it. Tell me—why?"

Every word Regina speaks gives Killian more hope. He turns his head and blinks up at her. She is still looking at Cora.

He clears his sore, dry throat as best he can and speaks, his voice barely above a whisper. "This won't bring you the peace you want, Regina. In your heart you know that. You wanted to change for Henry. It's not too late."

Cora stomps toward him. "Shut your mouth, pirate, unless you have something worthwhile to say." She raises her foot and brings it down fiercely on what's left of his hand.

The pain is enough to rip another scream from his aching throat. 

As the echoes of this cry die out, he hears what sounds like distant footsteps—and even voices.

"They've found us!" says Regina sharply. "We need to leave. Now."

"I'll have to start this all over again," Cora says in frustration, looking down at Killian.

"Leave him. He's not going to break. We're wasting our time," Regina snaps.

"I know he's still lying to me," Cora insists.

Regina grabs her mother's wrist. "It doesn't matter anymore. We're leaving. Now."

Smoke swirls around them and both women disappear, leaving Killian alone on the stone floor.

He smiles at the sound of voices drawing nearer.

"Thank you God. Thank you," he whispers.

~ ~ ~

Emma feels sick during the whole cab ride to the airport. How could this be happening? How?

She knew there was a murderer on the loose. She should have known better than to leave. And now Killian—

She closes her eyes and shakes her head. She can't think about that right now. She just has to get home.

"Mom," Henry squeezes her hand, "Killian is strong. He'll be okay."

Emma's throat feels tight and tears rise in her eyes. She needs a little of Henry's faith right now. "I hope you're right, kid."

Neal shifts in his seat. "This Killian—is he, uh, the guy? Your boyfriend?"

"Yeah," Henry replies, sparing Emma from having to explain the complexity of her relationship with Killian to Neal. She can't handle that right now.

"So why did these witches go after him? Because of you?" Neal asks.

"They think he knows where your father's dagger is," Emma says.

"Does he?" asks Neal.

"Close enough," she replies.

Gold shakes his head. "This is a disaster. If that dagger falls into Cora's hands, Storybrooke as we know it is doomed."

Neal nods decisively. "Okay. I can't let you take Henry into the middle of this without backup. I'm coming with you."

Emma smiles and nods. She doesn't think he can do much good against Cora, but at least he can help keep Henry out of the line of fire.

Gold buys them all tickets—first class—on the next plane to Portland. It leaves in forty minutes. They make it to the gate with just twenty minutes to spare.

Emma paces back and forth, gripping her phone tightly in her hand, waiting for another call from David. Something to reassure her. But it doesn't come.

She sees Neal talking animatedly to someone on his phone, and guesses it must be Tamara. Under other circumstances she'd pity him having to explain all this, but right now she just doesn't care.

She can hardly sit still the whole flight, in spite of the comfortable accommodations. When they finally touch down she flips on her phone immediately. There are three messages from David.

Instead of listening to them she dials him back as she walks out of the gate. Whatever happened, she wants to hear it from him directly.

"Emma!" he says, his voice sounding relieved. "Are you okay? I couldn't get through to you—"

"We were in the air. We just touched down in Portland. Please tell me you have good news," she says, her heart already racing.

"I do. We found him. We found Killian. He's going to be okay."

Her knees suddenly feel weak and she grips the chair closest to her, leaning heavily against it. She closes her eyes and takes several deep breaths.

_He's going to be okay. He's going to be okay_. She feels as if she can really breathe for the first time this afternoon. Killian is safe. He's going to be okay. 

The awful specter of his death no longer hangs over her, and she can finally see how terrified she truly was. She can't lose him. Not now. Not when they only just started.

_He's going to be okay_.

"Emma? Are you still there?" David asks.

"Yeah. Sorry—I was just… relieved."

"We were, too. From the looks of him he wouldn't have lasted much longer. We're lucky we got to him when we did. He's in the hospital now, and Whale is doing everything he can to patch him up."

Emma's chest is suddenly tight again. Something in David's tone is off. "What did they do to him?"

She hears David take a deep breath. "It's not good, Emma. He lost a lot of blood. And his hand…"

"What about his hand?" she asks, her heart frozen.

David pauses a little too long. "Emma… They broke almost every bone in his hand. Whale's not sure if Killian will ever have full use of it again."

Her grip of support on the chair-back turned into claws of anger, her fingernails leaving deep marks in the pleather. "I'll be home in less than ninety minutes. And then we're gonna find a way to deal with Cora once and for all."

"Emma—drive safe. The last thing we need is for you to get in a car wreck on the way back. We'll hold the fort down until you get here."

"Okay." Emma forces herself to take another breath.

Of all the ways Cora and Regina could have hurt Killian—of all the things they could have done to him… She barely manages to repress a cry of rage. They won't get away with this. Her eyes drift to Gold, who watches her with raised eyebrows.

He healed Killian's gunshot wound. He can sure as hell heal his hand.

She pushes the end call button on her phone and shoves it in her pocket. "Come on. We've got a long drive."

Gold steps closer to her. "First—tell me one thing. Do you know where the dagger is? Could he have given it up to them?"

Emma shakes her head, disgusted. "He'd never give the dagger to them. Come on. We need to pick up your car."

She doesn't talk much on the drive back. She's not ready to tell Henry about Regina's involvement, yet. Instead she listens to him, sitting in the back seat, prattling on about how he discovered everyone's true identities and how he brought her to Storybrooke in the first place. He sounds so proud and—now that he knows Killian is safe—so happy. She doesn't want to ruin that, but she knows she'll have to tell him about Regina sooner rather than later. It'll break his heart all over again.

One thing at a time. First Gold will heal Killian. Then they'll figure out how to stop Cora. And then… then she'll deal with the fallout of Regina's involvement.

In spite of David's urging to drive safe, she speeds most of the way, making it all the way to the hospital in just over an hour and a quarter. They get out of the car and Henry dashes for the entrance, Gold not far behind, but Neal grabs Emma's arm, holding her back.

She rounds on him, angry. "What?"

"Emma—I just need to ask… Is your boyfriend Killian Jones?" She can see from the look in his eyes exactly where he's going with this, and it is the last thing she wants to deal with right now.

"Yes," she snaps, shaking off his grip on her arm. "He is. And yes, I know exactly who he used to be, and I know all about his relationship with you and your father. There are no secrets between us, remember? Not like with certain other people I could name." She spins on her heels and strides away from him toward the hospital entrance. Let him stew over that all he wants. She just needs to get to Killian.

She turns the corner to find David hugging Henry. David releases her son and steps forward to wrap his arms around her, cradling the back of her head against his shoulder with his steady hand. The feeling of being held by him—comforted by her _father_ —is still strange and not entirely comfortable, but the sentiment of it hits her in an unexpected way, bringing fresh tears to her eyes.

She steps back and quickly blots them away. "Is he…?"

David smiles and tilts his head. "He's this way. Mary Margaret is with him." He starts leading her and Henry down the corridor. "You have to prepare yourselves—he's pretty beat up. But he's awake and he's safe and he's getting better, okay?"

"Okay," whispers Henry, reaching out to take her hand. Emma smiles a little at the gesture, even while her heart pounds in her chest.

She ignores the sight of Gold and Belle embracing in the corridor because David is leading her into a nearby room. 

Emma crosses the threshold and stops short, her breath catching in her throat.

Killian sits propped up in a hospital bed, an IV tube feeding into his abbreviated arm, his other hand swaddled in a mass of bandages and splints. His face is a patchwork of bruises and deep cuts sewn closed with stitches, and she can see a few other lines of stitches peeking out from his hospital gown on his upper chest and arms.

Her fists clench at her sides. _Those bitches will pay for this_. Her anger swells white hot in her chest, but immediately begins to subside when Mary Margaret, sitting beside the bed, rises, a pacifying smile on her face, and Killian's eyes turn to look up at her.

Even through the landscape of injuries crossing his face his smile still looks beautiful.

"Emma," he says hoarsely. "Henry! You're safe."

Emma smiles and blinks back a fresh crop of tears as she walks to his side, Henry following slowly behind. "Yeah. We are. I just…" She shakes her head, the tears becoming impossible to hold back. "I shouldn't have left. I knew there was someone dangerous in town. I should have stayed until we had them. I should have—"

"Hush, love. None of the fault here is yours. Don't trouble yourself."

Emma wavers on her feet. Even now—in so much pain—he's the one trying to comfort her. She shakes her head again. "But your _hand_ —"

Killian manages a small shake of his head. "No worries. I'll find a way to manage. I always have. And I don't know exactly what Whale is pumping into me right now, but, uh," he chuckles lightly, "it's the good stuff. I can hardly feel a thing."

Emma stretches a hand toward him, and then pulls back, afraid of hurting him more. She looks back at the bandaged mass of his hand, her anger swelling again. "You won't have to manage," she says. "We're going to fix this. Right now."

She strides back out into the corridor, ignoring Killian and Mary Margaret's confused calls behind her. 

Gold and Belle still stand there, holding hands, with Neal shuffling awkwardly beside them. Emma points at Gold. "You. You're going to come heal Killian. Right now."

Gold cocks an eyebrow. "Am I? We haven't even discussed payment."

"Oh come on—" Neal begins.

Emma steps even closer, staring him down. "Killian got tortured protecting _your_ precious dagger. You owe him."

Belle squeezed Gold's arm. "I never would have had the courage to escape without Killian. You need to help him."

Gold clenches his teeth and lifts his chin. "Very well. Perhaps I do owe something to the pirate. I won't heal him—"

"What?" Emma demands.

Gold raises a finger. " _I_ won't heal him. You will. And I will guide your efforts."

Neal frowns. "What do you mean Emma will heal him?"

Gold turns his gaze to his son. "Did we forget to tell you? Miss Swan here is brimming with magic. Come," he adds, to Emma as he walks toward Killian's room.

She leaves Neal looking dumbfounded in the corridor and heads back to Killian's bedside.

"Emma—what's going on?" asks Mary Margaret.

Emma takes a deep breath and meets Killian's eyes. "We're going to fix you."

His eyes widen a fraction. She sees his Adam's apple bob, and then he nods. "Thank you," he whispers.

Emma's hands are shaking. She looks at Gold. "I have no idea what I'm doing."

"Close your eyes," he says.

Emma obeys.

"Now," Gold continues, "form a picture in your mind of Jones whole and well, as you remember him. Make the picture as clear and detailed as you can."

Emma nods and pulls up her memories of Killian—Killian in his running clothes, lean, strong, athletic, healthy. She pictures his beautiful face smiling and bright and smooth. She pictures his hand caressing her face—his fingers intertwining with hers. She feels something warm and tingly swelling in her chest.

"Do you have the picture?" Gold asks.

Emma nods. "I do."

"Good. Fix that picture firmly in your mind. Then reach out to him, and will his body to return to that state that you have pictured. Will him to be whole and well."

With a shaking breath Emma focuses on the picture in her mind, and feels the warmth swelling ever higher within her. With her eyes still closed, she stretches her hand toward Killian's bed. 

" _Be well_ ," she whispers under her breath.

Suddenly she feels the warm tingles flowing through her arm and out her fingers.

She hears Mary Margaret gasp, Henry cries, "Mom!" and Killian says her name in a strangled, shocked voice.

She opens her eyes to see a glowing white nimbus surrounding Killian. Within it his cuts and bruises are fading, leaving behind only the stark black stitches to mark their place. He sits up straighter and begins to shake his hand.

Gasping, Emma reaches down and begins to tear at the splints and bandages. They fall away beneath her fingers, even as the white glow subsides.

Emma pulls the last of the bandages away and Killian lifts his perfect, healthy hand, flexing and bending all his fingers, staring at it in awe. Emma's heart jumps in her chest and she can't stop herself from smiling.

Killian meets her gaze with an expression of such—awe? Gratitude? _Love_?—that her knees go weak.

"You did it," he says softly. "You healed me."

"Yeah," she replies, her guts feeling jittery. "I did."

He wraps his healed arm around her, pulling her close, and she tumbles into his lap. He laughs, pulling her even closer, wrapping both arms around her in spite of the IV tube still attached to his other arm.

Emma wraps one arm around his back and strokes his cheek with her other, feeling the rough prick of the stitches beneath her fingers. She came so close to losing him today…

"You are extraordinary," Killian whispers in her ear, his breath tickling her neck. "I always knew you had power inside of you. Thank you."

She can't stop a sound escaping from her lips that comes out half-laugh and half-sob. She pulls back far enough to look into his eyes. "Just keep yourself out of trouble next time I go out of town, okay?"

"As my lady wishes," he replies, his eyes twinkling and his hand still gripping her back.

"Amazing work, Sheriff," says Whale from behind her.

She turns to see him amble a little closer. 

He looks at Killian's hand and face and shakes his head before glancing back at Emma. "I don't suppose you'd consider leaving law enforcement for medicine?"

Emma smiles but shakes her head. "I still have no idea what I'm doing. I'm sure I'd just end up screwing things up. Besides. I've still got work to do."

Whale and Mary Margaret nod solemnly.

"Yes," interjects Gold. "I'd say that devising a plan to stop Cora needs to be our first priority."

Emma slides off of Killian's lap and squeezes his hand as she stands. "No. Making sure everyone is safe is our first priority. _Then_ we can worry about Cora. I won't have her doing this to anyone else. Is there some kind of force field or barrier we can set up around our apartment and anywhere else she might try to attack?"

Gold nods. "We can devise something of the sort, yes."

"Good. That's what we'll do first."

"I'll come," says Killian, making as if to swing his legs off the bed.

Whale holds up a restraining hand. "Not so fast. We need to get these drugs out of your system first, and take out a few hundred stitches. I'm afraid you'll be with us a few hours longer."

Emma grins. "He's right. You look kind of like Frankenstein right now."

"Uh," Whale coughs uncomfortably.

"You mean Frankenstein's monster," says Mary Margaret gently. "Dr. Victor Frankenstein actually looks like… well…" she gestures toward Whale.

Emma's eyebrows shoot up. "You've got to be kidding me."

"Awesome!" says Henry.

Whale just shrugs and smiles.

These things really shouldn't surprise her anymore.

She squeezes Killian's hand one more time before saying goodbye, and turns to see Neal giving her a stricken look from the doorway. Whatever. She doesn't have time to worry about Neal's issues today.

First she heads back to the loft with her family, Gold, Neal and Belle, and they plan out the protective spells they need to put up. Then she leaves with Gold to make it happen.

On their way to his shop, Gold asks, "Jones gave you the dagger—didn't he?"

Emma grits her teeth, determined not to answer.

Gold shakes his head. "Keep your secrets if you must. But I feel a feel a tug of the dagger's compulsion every time you give me an order. I know you were the last one to possess it. I only hope you hid it someplace safe."

"I did," Emma concedes, and Gold nods.

He leads her through the steps of drawing magical chalk lines across the entrances to all the buildings they want to protect and then putting up a barrier spell. They start with Gold's shop, and then put up the same spell on Gold's house, Mary Margaret's apartment building, Granny's diner and inn, Leroy's apartment, and the convent. They have everyone who might be targets of Cora and Regina gather to those locations.

Finally, Emma insists on putting up a spell at Killian's house, as well. She cringes at the state of it—all torn apart from an inexpert search. The cats are nervous and hungry, so she takes the time to give them fresh food and water and pets them, speaking soothing words, while Gold taps his cane impatiently.

When they're finished they agree to meet first thing in the morning to make a plan—in the meantime they all need a good night's sleep. Not long after she gets a text from Killian saying that he is home safe, Gold and Belle return to their home. Emma sees to it that Neal is settled in at Granny's, and she tucks Henry in herself before heading downstairs for a drink to sooth her rattled nerves. It's been a hell of a day.

Her parents join her in a drink, and then she sighs, sinking into her chair. "Remind me never to take a road trip with a murderer on the loose again, okay?"

David smiles. "Got it, Sheriff."

"So," says Mary Margaret, tapping the counter with her finger. "Neal…"

"I don't have the energy to talk about Neal right now," says Emma, feeling the weight of her long day heavy on her shoulders.

"Okay," says Mary Margaret softly. "I just wondered—does this change anything? With Killian, I mean?"

"No," Emma says immediately—and forcefully. If anything, seeing Neal again and then immediately facing the prospect of losing Killian has only strengthened her conviction that she's ready to move on from her past. 

For the first time in years, Emma knows exactly what she wants. She wants to bring peace to the town. She wants to get to know her family. And she wants to be with Killian. She's pretty confused about a hell of a lot of other things in her life—but those three things she knows for certain.

She takes a deep breath, thoughts of Killian flooding her mind. Henry is safe asleep, her parents are here to watch him, and the building is protected from Cora and Regina. And Killian is all alone at his ripped up house, still mentally recovering from hours of torture…

She sets down her glass. "Can you watch Henry while I go out for a bit?"

Her parents nod.

"Of course we can," says Mary Margaret. "Take your time. But be safe—please."

"I will," says Emma, rising and pulling on her coat.

~ ~ ~

Killian gets a text from Emma just after ten pm. "Can I come over?"

He smiles. There's nothing he'd like better. "Of course," he texts back.

Then he glances around his front room and sighs. He's been tidying up the mess Cora and Regina left for nearly an hour, and the place still looks like a tornado passed through. Not much more he can do, about that.

He straightens the cushions on the couches and chairs and bends to pick up some more of the books that were tossed off of their shelves when he hears a door knock. It's been barely three minutes since her text—she must have already been on her way.

He checks through the front window to make certain it is her before unlocking the door and letting her in.

Emma steps in, looking pale and a bit nervous.

Killian frowns a little, closing and locking the door behind her before asking, "Is something wrong? What can I do?"

Emma holds his gaze, her green eyes blazing with some indecipherable emotion. She shakes her head slightly, and then lunges forward, gripping the back of his head with her hand and pulling him in for a scorching kiss.

Killian is only startled for a moment, and then he responds eagerly, wrapping his arms around her and pulling her close.

Her mouth is open and hungry, and she tastes like whiskey.

She thrusts her hips against his, only his well worn sweat pants in the way, and he feels his body responding immediately, heat circulating through his veins.

He shifts to plant kisses along her jaw and cheeks, and is startled to find them damp. He pulls back a few inches to meet her eyes and sees tears standing in them.

"Emma?" he says. Has he done something wrong?

Her voice shakes when she answers. "I almost lost you, today. I can't lose you, Killian."

Killian's insides tingle and lurch. He cradles her face in his hand and wipes away her tears with his thumb. "I'm still here, Emma. I'm not going anywhere."

"You can't promise that," she says softly.

Killian fights down a lump in his throat. "No. I can't. But I can promise to do everything in my power to be there for you and for Henry whenever you need me. And I'll stay with you forever, if I can. You know that, don't you?"

She nods, finally smiling, even if it's a pained smile. "I do," she says. Her eyes are so full of hope and promise that Killian allows himself—for the first time—to believe that she's truly coming to feel for him they way he feels for her.

He kisses her again, infusing all his promises of safety and comfort, partnership and forever, into his touch.

She whimpers against his mouth, clinging to him desperately.

Killian groans with need. He spent half the day thinking he wouldn't live to see tomorrow—and now _this_. It's like a miracle—one he can't possibly hope to deserve, but for which he will be forever grateful. He won't turn away from this chance. Not when their lives are so fragile and tenuous.

He huffs an eager breath and backs her against the door, breathing deep of the scent of her perfume and her sweat as he kisses her neck. At long last he allows himself to touch her freely, working his knee between her thighs and caressing her breast with the hand she healed just hours earlier.

She sighs and leans into his touch, urging him onward.

He slides his hand downward, gripping her ass, and feels a strange bulky shape in the back pocket of her jeans.

Curious, he dips his fingers inside and pulls out the object he finds inside.

He holds up a strip of condoms, blinks at it for a moment, and then laughs. "Emma Swan—it's almost like you came here intending to seduce me."

"Would you mind if I did?" she says breathlessly.

He shakes his head, laughing again, and she smiles in return. "I wouldn't mind at all."

He wraps his arm around her again and kisses her deeply until he feels her stiffen with tension. 

"What is it?" he says.

She stares at the couch behind him. "The cats are watching us."

Killian turns his head to see all four cats lined up on the couch, twitching their tails.

He laughs again, and Emma laughs with him.

"Upstairs," he says, taking her hand and pulling her along.

When they reach his room he shuts the door behind them. "They haven't managed to open any doors, as yet, so we should have some privacy."

"Good," she replies, her eyes wanton and hungry. Then she glances around at the disarray of his messily-searched room, and her face falls.

"I'm—I'm sorry," he begins, uncertain of what to do next.

Emma shakes her head and rests her palms on her cheeks. "It's okay. None of this matters. All that matters is that you're safe, and you're here, and we're together."

"That is exactly what matters," Killian replies, pulling her close again. They slowly remove each other's clothes, adding them to the piles already on the floor. He feels as if he's waited a lifetime for this encounter, and he means to savor each and every moment of it.

~ ~ ~

The chaos of Killian's room only serves to remind Emma of how close she came to losing him today, and makes her even more certain of her decision.

She caresses every inch of his body as he sheds his clothes, memorizing the curves and planes of his body, just in case.

He flinches a little when she moves to his shortened arm to remove the sock he wears there beneath his prosthetic. She holds his gaze and runs her fingers tenderly over the arm, pulling the sock free and caressing the length of his arm, running her palm over the calloused stump.

He gasps and leans he forehead against hers. She takes his hand and feels it trembling in her grip. No one has ever been this vulnerable with her before. No one has ever given her this much control.

She raises his hand to her lips and kisses his palm, savoring the way his eyes squeeze closed and his breath comes in short gasps.

Emma kisses Killian's parted lips and backs him toward the bed.

They take their time learning each other's bodies and kissing their fill. Emma thinks she could kiss him forever and not tire of it.

Once the heat in her core rises higher than she can bear, Emma pulls his shortened arm between her legs and grinds her clit against his wrist while he explores the rest of her torso with his hand and lips.

She whimpers and gasps and writhes, and a part of her brain knows she probably looks like a mess but she doesn't let herself care. All that matters is that it's him and it's her and she hasn't felt this good in forever and she never ever wants it to end.

His fingers find one of her nipples, twisting and pulling, while his lips latch onto the pulse point in her neck. "Right there— _yes_ ," she moans, the heat inside of her swelling as high as she can bear.

She thrusts more insistently against his wrist while he continues to finger her nipple, and she starts to see stars. She cries out, shaking against him, and he kisses her chest softly while she rides out the waves of her pleasure.

Gasping, she says, "I need you. Inside me."

Killian chuckles smugly as he reaches for one of the foil packets on the nightstand. "As you wish."

They make quick work putting on the condom, and then he slides inside of her with one smooth thrust.

He hovers above her, perfectly still, for a moment, breathing deep. "I love you Emma," he whispers.

It should terrify her. Two months ago, it would have. But not tonight. "I know," she whispers back, and pulls his face toward hers for a fierce kiss.

He begins to move, slowly at first, but then picking up speed, thrusting deep inside her. His groans and grunts fill her ears, even as she whimpers and the heat builds within her again. A few minutes later he stiffens and trembles, crying out as he comes undone. Emma pulls his hips close and grinds against him a few more times, bringing herself to climax a second time.

They lay still, breathing deep, sweaty limbs tangled. Emma pushes the damp hair back from Killian's forehead and rests her head against his cheek. "I'll never let her hurt you again," she whispers.

"I know."

 

Tbc


	22. Chapter 22

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I managed to finish this one while I was sick in bed, so I guess there are some upsides to being ill. We're moving into the home stretch. I decided to veer slightly further from canon for the final chapters, but I've put some fun twists in there. Much thanks to artielu and angelicbeing on Tumblr for some brainstorming help. Hope you enjoy! Disclaimer: Lines of dialog from the show are quoted in this chapter – none of it belongs to me, etc.

Emma knows she needs to get home to Henry. She doesn't intend to fall asleep. But after the terror and exhaustion of the day the exquisite peace she feels wrapped up in Killian's arms is too much for her, and she drifts off.

Sometime later the feeling of Killian twitching and shaking beside her rouses her to a state of nervous alertness. She starts up from her pillow, but seeing no threats in the dim moonlight that fills the room, she turns to look back at Killian.

His eyes are still shut, but he shakes his head back and forth, his body jerking every few seconds. A steady murmur of half-distinct words issues from his mouth. "No… mmhhnn…don't know…ngh…don't know…stop…please stop…"

His mutterings take on a more insistent and panicked tone as they go on.

Emma sucks on her bottom lip, uncertain of what to do. She's had her share of nightmares in her lifetime, but she's always coped with them on her own. She's seen movies and read books where parents comfort children with nightmares or lovers comfort one another, but it's something that's never been done for her, and she has no idea how to do it for him, either.

She extends a tentative hand to brush against his shoulder. "Killian?" she whispers.

He gasps, his whole body goes ridged, and his eyes fly open, staring sightlessly at the ceiling. He takes a few deep breaths, and Emma sees his fingers dig into the sheets, curling into a grasping fist.

At last his eyes seem to take in his surroundings and he relaxes slightly, his eyes slowly shifting to take in her face. "Emma?"

She nods, her heart racing. How does she do this? She doesn't know exactly what he went through today, but the sight of him in that hospital bed gave her a pretty good idea. "It's—it's okay. You were just dreaming." 

He takes a deep breath and closes his eyes before running his hand through his hair and propping himself up on his elbow. "I'm sorry for waking you."

Emma shakes her head. "Don't apologize. Don't worry about me right now—not after the day you've had. It's my turn to take care of you, for once." She reaches out to cradle his cheek with her palm—the cheek that had been covered in jagged cuts just a few hours ago. Just thinking about it brings a lump to her throat. 

Yes. After all he's done to help her—to support her and strengthen her and encourage her—it's her turn to give some back. "I want to take care of you," she says just above a whisper. It's been a hell of a long time since she felt this way about any man (she pushes back the image of Neal's face that rises in her mind). "Can I? Please?"

Killian leans into her touch. He smiles, meeting her eyes. "You always take care of me, Emma. Right from the start." He sidles closer to her on the bed so that they can lean against each other's shoulders. "Graham's death was a big blow for me—almost like reliving my brother's death. I'm not sure I'd have had the strength to stay sober through that holiday season without your friendship. And then… you gave me back my life. You're a bloody miracle, darling."

Emma's heart skips a beat. He leans his forehead against her temple and she threads her fingers into his thick hair. "I don't know how I'd have gotten through the past few months without you in my life," she whispers. With him she can admit her doubt and weakness, because she knows he won't think less of her.

"Oh, you're tough as nails, lass. You'd have managed."

She smiles at the warmth of his breath on her cheek. "Maybe. Maybe I would have. But still—I'm glad you were here. I'm glad we were in this together."

"Me too, sweetheart."

The endearment sends a thrill down her spine. At moments like this she can hardly believe that this is her life now.

They lean against each other in silence for a few moments, and Emma feels the exact second the muscles in his shoulders tense under her fingers. The day still haunts him—she knows it does. She swallows hard, gathers her courage, and says, "If you need to talk about it—what happened today—I'll listen. If talking will help?"

He pulls in a deep breath and shakes his head slightly, but continues to lean his forehead against her temple. "I've survived torture before," he murmurs. "I was ready. I knew I could last. "But that didn't make it any easier."

Emma rubs his neck and shoulders gently, not knowing any other way to respond.

"I thought of you, and of Henry, and of my parishioners. I knew I had to keep you all safe from Cora. That was enough to keep the location of the dagger locked up tight… but Lord above, Emma… I was almost done. I didn't want to die. But if that's what it took for the pain to stop, I was ready. I've been saved from my sins. I was ready to die. But I regretted so much having to leave you like that, when you've lost so much. I didn't want to be another painful memory."

Emma wraps her arms around him, pulling him closer, and does nothing to fight the tears rolling down her cheeks. How could he be thinking of her at a time like that? How? What did she ever do to deserve this kind of love? She can't wrap her mind around it. "You're still here. That's what matters now."

"Thank God, yes," he murmurs. "Perhaps He still has some work for me. It certainly took a few miracles to get me out of that mess today."

Emma pulls back slightly, just enough to meet his eyes. She's only just coming to grips with her newfound belief in magic—she's not sure she's ready to believe in miracles, too. "Miracles?" she asks with a tilt of her head.

"Aye." He nods. "The first was Regina. She balked when Cora started in on my hand, and finally stepped in to try to put a stop to it. That slowed Cora down for a bit." Emma is intrigued by this news, but she's not about to forgive Regina—or to call it a miracle. All it shows is that Regina does have a conscience after all, but it kicks in a little too late.

Killian continues. "The second was David and Ruby arriving when they did, before Cora could start in on me again." He smiles now. "And the third was you. At the hospital."

Emma shakes her head. That was no miracle. She'll never call anything with Gold involved a miracle. And as for David… "David showed up when he did because he called me and I told him to check the Mills family crypt. That's not a miracle—it's detective work."

"Call it detective work if that makes you happy, love," replies Killian, "but it will always be a miracle to me. Especially now that I know it was your doing. You really are a bloody marvelous miracle—always."

Emma shakes her head, opening her mouth to rebuff his praise, when he kisses her. It's soft and tender—slow, yet full of feeling. It's not the kiss of someone looking for a quick hour of passion, but a kiss of someone looking for a lifetime of other kisses.

The amount of feeling he can put into every little touch takes her breath away.

Killian reclines back onto his pillow, pulling her down with him, and she loses herself in more slow, sleepy, comfortable kisses. At moments like this she almost believes that a peaceful, happy life really is a possibility for her.

Though the kisses remain lazy and playful she can feel his arousal hard against her leg, and he's not the only one who's aroused. She smiles through their kisses and a warm tingle stirs in her gut at the realization of how much she wants him again. It's not just that she wants another release, or even that she thinks he could use another one. It's because he's Killian— _her_ Killian—and of course she wants him.

It briefly occurs to her that this must be what it's like for Mary Margaret and David—always wanting just because they can't stand not being together. But she pushes that thought aside. Now is hardly the time to analyze this new thing. Now's the time to embrace it.

She rolls toward the nightstand and when Killian moves to follow, she stretches an arm to push him back down. "You wait right there," she says as she fumbles for one of the foil packets sitting on the nightstand.

A moment later she rolls the condom down over his length, and then, with his bright smile shining up at her, she straddles him and gently guides him inside. With a sigh she leans forward to lay on his belly, her chest only slightly propped up by her elbows at his side.

He meets her gaze, his eyes full of that emotion that always makes her heart race, and he brushes her hair with his hand while his short arm slowly strokes her side. She sighs again, savoring the pleasant, peaceful tingle of their connection.

Pushing herself with her elbows and toes she slowly begins to rock forward and back, grinding her sensitive zone against his pelvis. Nearly all of her skin touches nearly all of his, giving her a sensation of a wonderfully complete connection. 

For the next few minutes they are one body—flesh connected to flesh, breathing each other's breath as they gasp and whimper, tasting each other's tongues and sweat as their lips explore.

With only a hitch in Killian's breath as warning he grips her hip and tilts his pelvis, thrusting up to sink deeper into her every time she rocks back against him.

She feels her own breath coming faster, and she arches her chest upward. Killian follows, capturing her breast with his mouth. Emma whimpers and Killian's fingers dig deeper into her hip before he falls back onto his pillow and picks up the pace of his thrusts even more. A moment later he stiffens and groans with his release.

Emma grinds against him a few more times and then sinks down to his chest with a happy sigh, reveling in the sweet, peaceful feeling of completeness that fills her.

They lay like that in sleepy, empty-headed oblivion, for what feels like forever, but which is more likely five or six minutes, before Emma gets up, tugging Killian after her to the bathroom to clean up.

After Killian sinks back onto the bed, Emma sits on the edge with a sigh. "I have to go," she says, knowing that if she lets herself lie down again she won't get up until morning. "I don't want to be gone when Henry wakes up."

Killian nods with a tight-lipped smile. "I understand. You need to be there for him when he learns about Regina's involvement."

Emma nods. Of course Killian understands. She stands and stoops, hunting for her clothes. She's nearly dressed when her cell phone rings. "What the hell?" Thoughts of Henry and her parents in danger race through her mind as she fumbles for the phone and notices the caller ID. "It's Regina," she says in disbelief. Why the hell?

"Answer it," says Killian quickly, and she presses talk without thinking.

"You have some gall calling me like this after what you did today," Emma growls in greeting.

"I know how you must feel right now, but I need you to listen to me," Regina says, her voice rough and low.

"Give me one good reason why," Emma demands, clutching the phone so tight the edges dig into her fingers.

"Because I saved your pirate's life. My mother wanted to keep him, but I teleported her out of the crypt before she could take him with us."

"And I'm supposed to take you word for it?" Emma's anger rises.

"My mother went too far. I see that now. I should have stopped her."

"Yes," Emma barks back, "you should have."

"I want to make things right," Regina says.

"I think it might be too late for that," says Emma.

"Is it?" Regina asks plaintively. Killian has edged close edged close enough to hear both sides of the conversation. He shakes his head and mouths the words, " _Listen to her._ "

Emma has zero desire to listen to her, but this might be their only chance to gain information on where Regina and Cora are hiding. She clenches her teeth together for a moment before answering. "Fine. I'll listen. What do you want?"

Regina's voice is tight and anxious when she answers. "I want to help you stop my mother."

~ ~ ~

Killian watches Emma pace in the early morning darkness from where he is crouched in the bushes. He knows she hates this plan, but she also knows that this is their best chance to gain any insight into what Regina and Cora intend to do next.

Her phone is in her pocket with an open line to Gold, who is listening in and can appear at a moment's notice if he is needed. And Killian holds Emma's gun, ready to shoot if things go south.

At least Regina agreed to meet in the park not far from Emma's loft. There's plenty of cover here. Killian had no trouble finding a spot to hunker down.

He glances at his watch. Two more minutes to the agreed time. He takes a few deep breaths to steady his nerves. If this is a trap… If Cora arrives along with Regina…

He shakes his head. No. He won't lose control. He can do this. His fear won't rule him.

The gun is heavy and firm in his hand, and he glances down at it. The hand is strong and unblemished—almost as if the events of the past afternoon had never occurred.

_But they did. I remember._

He blinks the image of his bloody, mangled hand from his memory and focuses on Emma once again. She paces down the path near the playground, and as soon as she turns to pace back, a swirl of smoke appears before her and Regina steps out of it to face her.

Killian tightens his grip on the gun, ready to shift his finger to the trigger in an instant, and aims it at the Queen.

He listens intently as they begin to speak.

Emma folds her arms across her chest. "So. You want to stop your mother all of a sudden? What changed?"

Regina shakes her head and looks down. "What she did to Belle and Jones… It was too much. There's no place in this world for that kind of action. If I ever want my son back in my life, I can't be a party to it."

Emma frowns, and Killian instantly knows that Regina chose her words poorly.

"It's a little late to think of Henry, now," says Emma. "There's no way I'm letting you anywhere near him after what you did to Killian."

"I didn't hurt him!" Regina barks back. "That was my mother!"

"And you didn't stop her until Killian was maimed and half-dead," Emma replies.

"But I _did_ stop her. Jones wouldn't be alive right now if it wasn't for me."

"Too late." Emma shakes her head. "The damage was already done. Under _your_ watch."

Killian sees Regina clench her fists at her side. "I come to you offering to help, and this is how you treat me? Now you see why I joined my mother in the first place."

This is going south fast. Killian fidgets. Perhaps he should intervene?

"You didn't have to, Regina. I believed that you were innocent. We were going to clear your name."

Regina flings her arms wide at her side. "When? When you were done with your little vacation? And did you even tell Henry that I was innocent?"

Emma looks down. "No. I didn't. I'm sorry."

"You should be."

Emma's eyes flash as she looks back up. "You can't blame me for you teaming up with Cora. That was your choice, Regina. _Yours_."

"And it's also my choice to defy her and come to you now. Give me another chance. I'm here to make things right."

Emma folds her arms again. "You've got three minutes to tell me exactly how we can defeat Cora. Starting now."

Regina straightens her shoulders and meets Emma's eyes. "Only Gold is strong enough to defeat her. But without his dagger, his power is hobbled. He needs to possess the dagger himself in order to face her. You and Jones have to know where it is. You have to get it, and return it to Gold. Then we can set up an ambush—"

"Do you honestly expect me to fall for such an obvious trap?" Emma says, scowling.

Killian is inclined to agree. During Regina's argument with Emma her words rang with truth, but this "plan" is such an obvious lie he can't help but wonder if she wanted to be found out. It's time to take his chances and intervene. If there's any chance of truly swaying Regina to their side, he has to take it.

He rises, still pointing his gun, before Regina has a chance to answer Emma.

Regina's eyes go wide. "You! Emma was supposed to come alone."

"We decided that wasn't a very good idea," replies Killian, striding toward her.

She eyes him up and down as he approaches. "Gold did good work. You must still have the dagger or he never would have agreed to heal you."

Killian shakes his head as he comes to a standstill a few feet away from her. "Gold didn't heal me. Emma did."

Regina looks at Emma with astonishment. "I hadn't realized your skills had progressed so far. But it doesn't matter. As raw and untrained as you you'd never be able to best me in a fight."

"But she won't have to, will she?" Killian interjects. "Because you're not going to attack her."

He holds Regina's gaze and her eyes falter.

Emma steps toward Regina. "Your plan to have us lead you to the dagger was way too transparent. It's almost like you weren't even trying to hide your intentions. What are you really doing here, Regina?"

Regina looks at the ground again and heaves a deep breath. "My mother wanted to go after the pirate again—to finish the job. But I convinced her to try subterfuge first." She raises her gaze to Killian's again. "Believe it or not, but I didn't care for torturing someone my son calls a friend. I'm glad you were healed."

Killian hasn't seen Regina so vulnerable since the day he and David went to her house to take Henry home with them. She was ready to turn a corner that day, and he thinks she might be ready again, this morning.

"Regina," he says, lowering the gun, "you were ready to change for the sake of your son. And it's not too late."

"Isn't it?" she snaps. "Now that he knows what I—we—did to you…" She shakes her head.

"No one's told him of your involvement yet—and we don't have to," Killian says, wincing slightly at the sharp look Emma gives him.

Regina doesn't seem to notice the silent exchange. Instead she turns to Emma, unshed tears glistening in her eyes. "Is this true? He doesn't know?"

Emma glares at Killian for a fraction of a second before looking at Regina and nodding. "Yeah. He doesn’t know. Like Killian said," her eyes flick to him again and she hesitates for just a moment, "Henry doesn't have to know the truth. It's not too late to change. Not just for his sake, but for yours."

Regina stares at the ground with her tear-filled eyes, looking thoughtful. Killian decides to probe a little deeper. "You were ready to betray your mother once, before the curse. What changed?"

She squeezes her lips together and glances up at him before answering. "I thought she was ready to make amends. I thought she wanted to be a family with me and Henry. That's why she said she wanted the dagger."

Killian can guess what the women planned to do with their pet Dark One, but he lets it slide. Regina is on a precipice. Cora managed to sway her to the dark side, but now he and Emma have a chance to sway her back. "Now that we all know your intent, you wouldn't be able to carry out your original plan, would you?" Killian asks.

"No," says Regina softly.

"But Cora is still obsessed with the dagger anyway, isn't she?" he presses.

"Yes." Regina nods. "I think she hasn't changed as much as I hoped."

Good. He has her willing to open up now. He just needs her to recognize the full reality of her situation. And he thinks he knows how. "You know, Regina, I held onto my quest for revenge for more than a century in Neverland. I used to believe it was because my quest was right and true, and vengeance was a goal worth living for. That only fulfilling my quest would give me a new chance at life. But I was wrong. Revenge isn't a beginning. It's an ending. And a dark one. Something Gold said recently helped me realize why I held onto my delusion for so long. It was because time is frozen in Neverland. Gold's son lived in Neverland for many years, and never forgave him. And Gold insisted it was because he could never grow or change in that place, where time was frozen. And he was right. I dreamed of my first love dying in my arms—of losing my hand—every night for centuries. And I woke every morning with her face in my mind and a thirst for revenge fresh on my tongue. But it wasn't true. It wasn't real. It was the magic of that place. It froze me. It wouldn't let me grow and heal and move on like I would have in any normal place. And Cora is the same way—not because of a place, but because of a thing. Her heart. I've read Henry's book. I know she hasn't kept her heart in her chest since before you were born."

Regina nods, her eyes filled with uncertainty.

Killian continues, hoping he can make her understand. "A person without their heart can never learn to love. They can never grow or evolve or become something better. They are stuck—frozen as whoever they were when their heart was removed. You know that, don't you?"

"Yes," Regina admits in a hoarse whisper. "I do."

"That's why Cora hasn't changed. Because she can't. She chose not to," he says. "All she cares about is power, and that's all she ever _can_ care about."

Emma steps forward. "That's what happened to you, too, isn't it? You froze time in this town. So you could never learn to get over your revenge. You could never learn to be selfless for your son. But now that time is moving again, you're starting to understand, aren't you? You're starting to change?" Her voice is hopeful and encouraging.

Killian holds his breath, watching Regina.

After a frozen moment she nods, her voice thick with emotion. "You're right. You're both right. My mother and I both chose to stay frozen. Her in her lust for power, and me in my lust for revenge. But things have changed now. You changed them," she says, looking at Emma.

Emma nods slowly.

Killian thinks they may have won Regina over, but there is something in her eyes that concerns him.

Regina meets Emma's gaze again. "If I help you, will I be able to see my son again?"

Emma hesitates, shifting on her feet and glancing at Killian before finally answering. "Yes. Under supervision, at first, until we're sure things are working."

Regina swallows hard and nods. "I understand. And… and if I put my mother's heart back where it belongs… will you give her a second chance?" This time she meets Killian's eyes.

His heart skips a beat. This isn't what he'd intended. It's not what he expected. Give Cora a second chance? He closes his eyes for a moment and sees her mallet slamming down on his hand, her knife slicing his flesh.

"That 's what the land of second chances is all about, isn't it?" Regina says, more insistent.

Killian opens his eyes to meet Emma's gaze. He can see the concern there—the tenderness. She knows this is his decision to make, though all their futures rest on it.

He grits his teeth. If he could give the crocodile a second chance, he owes one to Cora as well.

"Yes," he says. "Yes. If you can return her heart to her chest, and she agrees to keep it, we'll give her a second chance."

~ ~ ~

Emma hates this plan. She hates it fiercely.

Regina does not deserve another chance with Henry. And that bitch Cora certainly doesn't deserve a second chance at anything. But Killian backed her into a corner, and she had to agree, and she had to sell the plan to everyone else involved as if it was her idea.

That's what she hates the most—this is all Killian's fault. She's furious with him. And she _does not_ want to be angry with him right now. After such a perfect night together, why did he have to go and ruin things like this?

She paces back and forth in Gold's shop where they've gathered a few key allies, and shoots an angry glance in Killian's direction every few minutes. She can tell by the sheepish way he meets her eyes that he knows he screwed up. But it's too late to back down now.

Emma knew going into this thing with him that his religion would occasionally lead to disagreements, but she didn't expect it to happen this quickly. The whole "forgiveness and redemption" thing that he's stuck on sounds all well and good when he's talking about himself or about more ordinary people, but when it comes to Regina and Cora, Emma isn't exactly thrilled with the idea. They don't _deserve_ forgiveness and redemption after what they've done.

She sees her parents sitting next to Neal, trying, awkwardly, to make conversation. A small voice in her mind tells her that Regina did far worse to her parents than to Emma, or than Cora's done to any of them. And they're still willing to forgive Regina and give her another chance.

Emma squeezes her fists and looks down at the floor. So Killian's not the only crazy one here. It doesn't help that Gold was the only one to take her side and argue against giving Cora this chance. That unexpected support was just enough to make Emma doubt her own conviction.

" _Who are we to decide who does and doesn't deserve a second chance?_ " Killian had whispered to her during a lull in the original discussion of their plan.

She knows full well that he believes only God can make those calls, but she's not so sure she believes in a God. It's up to the flawed mortals to muddle their way through. And she's not at all convinced that they've made the right choice.

"What if they don't show up?" Neal asks. "What if Regina can't convince Cora to attack?"

Emma wishes Neal wasn't here at all. She'd asked him to stay with Ruby and Granny, where they'd left Henry, but he insisted on coming.

"They'll attack," says Gold softly. "I know Cora. She can't resist a good fight."

Emma nods. "Gold just needs to keep her distracted long enough for Regina to fetch the heart and, uh, put it back."

"You really think this will work?" Neal asks.

Emma glances at Killian, meeting his apologetic eyes. She frowns, and turns back to Neal. "Yes. I do."

She is spared any more frustrating conversation when a gust of wind in the street rattles the door, making the little bell attached tinkle.

Gold rises to his feet, gripping his cane. "They're here."

Emma swallows the lump of fear in her throat and nods. She and the others fall in behind Gold as he walks toward the door. With a flick of his wrist the door magically opens.

Cora and Regina stand just outside, looking in.

Cora smiles. "It's good to see you again, Rumple. It's been a long time."

"That it has," he replies, nodding.

The tension between them is palpable. Emma can see why he made Belle stay behind. Anyone close to him would be in danger right now. She glances at Neal, and then looks away. Neal made his choice to be here—he'll have to cope with the risks.

"I understand you want to make a deal?" Cora asks, her eyes locked on Gold's.

"More of a challenge than a deal," he replies. "You're not welcome in this town, Cora. I intend to remove you from it. Just you and me. A duel."

Cora smiles grimly. "If I succeed in killing you, the power of the Dark One will be lost forever."

"Leaving you as the most powerful magic wielder in town," Gold replies. "Especially with your daughter by your side. You won't _need_ the dagger to seize power. Not with me out of the way."

Cora eyes him warily for a moment, and then nods. "Very well. I accept your challenge. A duel—right here, right now. Regina will stand as my second."

"And Miss Swan will stand as mine," Gold replies.

"An interesting choice." Cora arches a brow. "Very well. Let us begin."

Emma turns to the others. "Stay here. Be safe," she says in a low voice, and then turns to follow Gold out into the street.

Cora and Regina have backed away from the store and walked several yards down the street. They turn to face Gold and Emma with grim smiles on their faces. Emma hopes that Regina plans on keeping her end of the bargain, or this is going to be one hell of a fight.

Gold and Cora take firm stances in the middle of the street facing one another.

"Ready?" asks Cora.

"Ready," Gold growls.

With no further warning, both unleash bursts of power at each other.

Emma stumbles back as the shockwave of Cora's blast hits Gold's hastily erected force shield. Shit. This is serious.

If Gold falls, there's no way she'll be able to carry on this fight.

She watches in wide-eyed astonishment as the two continue to fling deadly blasts at one another, parrying blasts when necessary.

She is so caught up in the action that she jumps in surprise when Regina reaches out of a cloud of smoke beside her and grips her arm. "Come on," she says.

Before Emma can say a word she is surrounded by cold blackness, with the pit of her stomach dropping into her feet. Just as suddenly her feet land on hard stone and a new light appears behind a swirl of smoke.

Coughing and stretching her arms to regain her balance, Emma yells at Regina, "What the hell is going on! I thought we had a deal!"

They are inside a stone hall in what Emma can only assume is the Mills family crypt.

Regina glares at her. "We do. But I could only convince my mother to accept the duel when she believed that I would be kidnapping you and forcing you to lead me to the dagger while everyone else was distracted."

Emma's eyes fly open. "You're not doing that, are you?"

Regina huffs in disdain. "Did you hide the dagger in my family crypt?"

Emma shakes her head, her racing heart calming slightly.

"I thought not. Come on." She strides toward a seemingly solid wall of stone which vanishes with a wave of her hand.

"How many secret rooms do you have down here?" Emma asks, following her.

"Now is hardly the time for that discussion," Regina replies, leading the way to stack of old-fashioned trunks. "These are the things my mother brought through with her."

Emma pulls open the lid of the nearest trunk to see nothing but folded gowns inside. Regina, on the other hand, opens a small upright cabinet and pulls out a few of the drawers. After just a moment she shouts in triumph. "This is it!"

She pulls a small carved wood box out of the cabinet. Red light pulses through the lattice-work design on the box.

Emma will never be able to wrap her head around the idea of people keeping living hearts in boxes. What the hell is her life? "You're sure that's her heart?"

Regina opens the box and caresses the beating organ gently. She nods. "It is." She grips the box, a strange look on her face. She raises her eyes to meet Emma's gaze. "If I do this—you promise me I can have a relationship with my son, again?"

"Yes. I already said I would," replies Emma.

"Swear it. Swear it, or I won't help you," says Regina, an edge of desperation in her voice.

Emma winces. "I promise. If you do this, you will have a relationship with Henry again."

Regina nods.

Emma nods back. "Okay. Let's do this."

Regina takes her elbow again, and with another lurch in her gut they teleport back to the street outside of Gold's shop.

They reappear behind Cora just as she flings up a wall of fire to block whatever spell Gold just threw at her. Emma stumbles back from the heat.

Cora's hair is disheveled and the skirt of her dress is slightly charred. The battle must not be going well for her. If only the search for her heart had taken a little longer…

"Mother! I have it!" Regina calls.

"Give it to me!" Cora calls back, stretching out one of her hands, but still facing her opponent and holding up her fiery shield with her other hand.

Cora reaches into the box and removes the heart, casting the box aside, and then darts forward and slams the heart through Cora's back with a powerful thrust.

Cora stumbles forward and her shield of fires falls.

Emma sees Gold standing a few yards away, his chest heaving and drops of sweat running down his face. Otherwise he seems unharmed—but still poised like a lion about to pounce. If Cora doesn't show signs of backing down soon, Emma doesn't think she can stop Gold from finishing her off.

Cora gasps and turns to stare at Regina. Emma has never seen Regina looking more vulnerable—or more hopeful.

Cora takes a deep breath and shakes her head, a wide smile spreading on her face.

An echoing smile lights up Regina's face. "Mother?"

Cora nods, and steps toward her daughter, her eyes searching Regina's body from head to toe. She shakes her head again. "I see now. I understand. This would have been enough. You would have been enough." Her voice cracks with emotion. "I'm so sorry, Regina. I'm so sorry—for everything."

Tears run openly down Regina's face, but she wears a joyful smile as she strides forward with open arms to embrace Cora. "Mother! I love you," she says, pulling Cora close.

Emma softly bites down on her bottom lip and blinks back the tears she feels welling in her own eyes. This was the kind of reunion her own mother had hoped for—and Emma hadn't given it to her. She turns to the shop door where the others have now stepped outside. Her eyes lock with Mary Margaret's, and she strides toward her.

Mary Margaret gasps when Emma flings her arms around her, but quickly returns the embrace.

"I think we did it," Emma says. "I think it worked."

"I'm pretty sure it did," replies Mary Margaret, nodding as she stares to where Cora and Regina still stand weeping in each other's arms.

Emma smiles and pulls back, quickly blotting away her tears.

Just then Neal comes up beside them, a frown on his face. "You wanted me to see this, didn't you?" he says in a low voice. "You wanted me to see this so I'd feel sorry for _him_ ," he points at Gold and shakes his head. "It's not going to work, Emma. I can't forgive him. I _can't_." With that he spins on his heels and stalks away toward Granny's.

Emma sighs. Damn it, Neal. When will he realize that her decisions aren't all about him?

"Let him go, love," says Killian, drawing up beside her. "He'll come around when he's ready, and not a moment sooner."

Emma squeezes her lips together and nods. "I know a thing or two about that."

"Aye," replies Killian, his eyes shining, a mischievous smile on his face.

She folds her arms and glares. "Is this the moment when you tell me _I told you so_?"

"Don't have to." He shakes his head. "You just said it yourself."

After playfully hitting him on the arm she reaches down and takes his hand. "Maybe you're right about this second chance thing, after all. I don't plan on letting my guard down around Cora anytime soon, but, uh, maybe you're right."

"I hope so," he replies, an unexpected note of doubt in his voice.

Emma squeezes his hand as they continue to stare at Cora and Regina holding each other. Emma hopes like hell that this is the end of the craziness. Maybe— _finally_ —things will start to go back to normal.

But just as soon as that thought enters her head, Gold steps up to her. "Sheriff—you'll need to start keeping an eye on Belle for me."

Emma takes a deep breath, waiting for whatever bomb he's ready to drop. "Okay. Why?"

"Because," he says, "Cora and I used to have a…" He waves his hand in the air. "A relationship. In fact, at the time she removed her heart she was in love with me. About to give up a royal marriage to run away with me. So I fear she may still harbor lingering… _feelings_ … in her heart. I'm concerned that she may try to strike at me through Belle. Out of jealousy."

Emma sighs, her shoulders slumping. "Great. Just great."

 

Tbc


	23. Chapter 23

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Long time no update! I know. But I'm working on it. Life is still crazy for me, but I hope I'll be able to update once or twice a month until this is finished. *fingers crossed* I hope this chapter isn't too terribly rusty. And thanks for sticking with me! This is a calmer chapter, but I still have a few good twists up my sleeve. I'll post on Tumblr tomorrow.

Killian watches Regina and Cora speaking in low tones with one another. The emotions behind their reconciliation appear to be genuine. Perhaps, now that she once more bears her heart, Cora truly is ready for a fresh start—a second chance.

Yet the sight of her still sends chills down his spine. He can't forget the twisted smile on her face when she conjured up the hammer she used to wreak his hand. The sick pleasure in her eyes when she cut him. He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. This was his idea. Now he has to live with it.

He turns back to Gold, Emma, David and Mary Margaret. They are hastily working out a plan for keeping tabs on Cora and Regina. Thankfully they aren't fully ready to trust the two women, yet. They've worked out a magical equivalent to the electronic tracking anklets used to monitor people under house arrest.

Emma turns to him and grips his arm. "We need to take Regina and Cora home and get this whole system set up. Do you want to…?"

He sees the uneasiness in her eyes, and he's grateful she recognizes his discomfort at the prospect of being anywhere close to Cora right now. "I'll go to Granny's and check in on Henry for you."

She smiles in answer. "Thanks. I'll text you when we're done. Be safe." She gives his arm another squeeze and turns back to her group.

Killian sighs. He's relieved that his pushing this plan on her doesn't seem to have caused any permanent harm to their relationship (though it won't surprise him if she still harbors some anger over his tactics). He turns and heads to Granny's.

He steps into the diner a few minutes later and finds Henry sitting in a booth with Bae… _Neal_. Henry's eyes brighten and he leaps to his feet and rushes to Killian. "You're okay!" Henry wraps his arms around Killian's middle and Killian can't help but smile as he returns the lad's hug. When he raises his eyes, however, he sees Neal staring at him with obvious distrust.

After a moment Henry lets go. "Last time I saw you, you still looked like Dr. Whale sewed you back together. You're almost back to normal, now!" Henry beamed.

"I'm bit more tired than usual," Killian admitted with a grin. "But otherwise shipshape."

"Is Cora really going to be _good_ now?" Henry asked. "Even after what she did to you?"

Killian squeezes his lips together and takes a deep breath through his nose. Sometimes the boy really cuts to the heart of things. "That remains to be seen," he replies honestly. "But rest assured no one else is in danger right now. Your mothers and your grandparents are doing all in their power to keep a close eye on Cora and to place strict limits on her. She won't be hurting anyone anytime soon, even if she wants to."

"Good." Henry smiled and nodded, looking satisfied.

Neal steps up behind his son (Killian still hasn't wrapped his mind around that) and rests his hand on the boy's shoulder. "Thanks for the update. And, uh, if you're really that tired maybe you should head home. Henry's in good hands, here." The undertone of mistrust is unmistakable—at least to Killian. Thankfully, Henry doesn't seem to notice.

"My dad says you used to know each other," Henry says, still beaming. At least Neal hasn't actively turned the boy against him, yet.

Killian nods, hoping to get this reunion off on the right foot. "We're old friends. I knew him when he was just a little older than you are, now." He lifts his eyes to meet Neal's hard gaze. "We haven't had a chance to speak, yet. But I'd very much like an opportunity to catch up. There are… things that I need to say. Can we meet later?"

He sees the muscles in Neal's jaw twitch, but the man nods. "Sure. Meet me here tonight. Nine o'clock."

Killian forces a smile. "I look forward to it." He looks back to Henry. "Emma will be here as soon as Cora is settled. I'll see you later."

Henry's smile warms his heart. He only hopes that Henry will win Neal over to him rather than the opposite.

Though there are hours of housework to do, he ignores it and tumbles into his bed, his fatigue finally catching up with him. In mere seconds he is asleep.

~ ~ ~

Emma fusses with the two new bracelets around her left wrist—one a gold chain, the other a silver chain, each bearing a single clear bead. According to Gold, if Cora performs magic of any kind the bead on the gold chain will get warm and glow, turning either red or green as Emma heads toward Cora to guide her like a compass. The same is true of Regina only with the bead on the silver chain. Gold and David both wear similar pairs of bracelets, so the two witches are well guarded.

Still, even with Regina's apparent desire to change and with Cora's restored heart, Emma isn't eager to leave them alone together. Not after what they did to Killian. But she doesn't have much choice in the matter.

"So," says David to Regina and Cora, who are seated on Regina's living room sofa. "You ladies are all settled? And you'll be ready to get a call on your cell as soon as either of you do any magic?"

Regina rolls her eyes. "Yes, yes. I understand perfectly. And I'll make sure my mother knows how to work her phone. We'll be fine. You have my word."

David nods, his eyes still uncertain. Mary Margaret takes his hand and gives it a reassuring squeeze. "I think we should give them some privacy. Give them time to sort out all their feelings."

Emma's throat is tight. Cora's been trying to kill her or the people she loves for a few weeks now. She doesn't care much about the woman's feelings. But she'd agreed that Storybrooke was the land of second chances. She'd have to find a way to live with it.

"Regina," she says, her voice hoarse. "I'll figure out what to do about letting you visit with Henry after I've had a little rest and a chance to talk it over with Dr. Hopper. I'll be in touch."

Regina's lips are thin and her face tight. "I understand."

Just before they leave, Cora suddenly stands. "Rumple?" she says.

Gold stops in his tracks and turns to glare at her.

"I just wanted to apologize for what I did to Belle," says Cora, her eyes gleaming with unshed tears. "I know how much she means to you. What I did was wrong, and I'm very sorry."

The entire room freezes for a moment. Gold can't really be buying this, can he?

He raises his eyebrows. "Interesting."

"You doubt my sincerity?" Cora asks.

"No." He shakes his head. "It's just… unexpected."

"I'm not the same woman I was yesterday," Cora says, and Emma almost believes her.

"I see that," Gold replies softly.

Cora takes a step toward him. "Perhaps, now that I'm a changed woman, we can find a way to be friends, again?"

A mocking smile twists Gold's face and he shakes his head. "You and I were never _friends_ , Cora."

Cora takes a deep breath. "But we could be now. It's never too late to turn over a new leaf."

Gold looks pensive. "Perhaps. I'll take it under consideration." After a moment's pause he nods. "Good day, ladies."

Cora nods back and Gold turns and leaves.

After a few redundant words of warning, Emma and her parents follow. 

On the way to Granny's, David and Mary Margaret act cheery and optimistic, but Emma can't quite share the sentiment.

They collect Henry from Neal and take him back to the loft, with promises that he can meet up with his father again in the afternoon. Once they get home, Emma's whole family urges her to sleep. She can't really object—she was awake half the night.

Before closing her eyes she reaches out to her nightstand and picks up Killian's insignia. She was really pissed at him for proposing the whole plan for returning Cora's heart. But it seems to have worked out for the best. He's probably worried that she'll hold a grudge against him, which is the furthest thing from the truth. Now that things appear to be settling down for good, she's determined to make her relationship with Killian work. After all the business with Cora, Henry seems to have forgiven Emma for lying to him (a small blessing). Perhaps now she and Henry her parents can start to live like a real family. And she can find a way to make Killian a part of it, too.

It still seems almost too good to be true—but it might be real. She might finally have the life she's always wanted.

~ ~ ~

Killian opens his eyes to find Emma lying beside him on the bed, a sleepy, apologetic smile on her face.

"Hey," she says softly.

"Hey," he replies.

She's parting her lips to speak again when a loud knock on his door startles him awake. He sits up and looks around. The bed beside him is empty. It was only a dream.

Another knock sounds at the door.

He rubs his eyes and trudges downstairs. Before opening his locks he takes the precaution of looking out the peep-hole. He blinks in surprise when he sees Mary Margaret's smiling face and the shapes of several other people clustered behind her.

He opens the door and the small crowd on his front stoop shout, "Surprise!"

He smiles and shakes his head. "What's all this?" The group includes not only Mary Margaret, David, and Henry, but also Doris, two of his Deacons and their wives, Ruby, Belle, and, most surprisingly, the Bowens, Grace, and Jefferson. "What are you all doing here?"

Mary Margaret grins. "Well, you've been here for all of us when we needed help, so we're going to be here for you. We've come to help you put your house back together."

Killian's heart swells in his chest and he blinks back the tears that suddenly rise in his eyes. He can't image acting any differently than he has. He didn't do it for recognition or thanks. But seeing the lives he touched coming back to bless him makes him marvel, once again, at the goodness of God. He shakes his head with a smile. "Thank you. Everyone. Come on in."

~ ~ ~

Emma wakes up and checks the clock. It's already late afternoon. She sighs and pushes her hair back from her face. The loft is surprisingly quiet. Maybe they all went out for a late lunch, or something. 

She heads downstairs and sees a note on the kitchen table. It reads: "Gone to Killian's house," and is signed only with a big heart. 

Emma smiles. This is a motherly trait she could get used to—having someone to keep track of, and people who want to keep track of her, in return.

She eats a quick cheese sandwich and then heads to Killian's. She knits her eyebrows in surprise when she sees Ruby's car pulling away with Ruby and Belle sitting next to each other. She waves at them as their cars pass. What were they doing at Killian's place?

She parks and walks to the door, still puzzling over the oddity of her family and Ruby and Belle all gathering here today. What's going on?

She knocks on the door, and raises her eyebrows in surprise when Doris opens the door. Killian's friendly office manager grins at her. "I was wondering if you'd turn up," she says. "Come in, come in."

"Uh, yeah," Emma says as Doris ushers her into Killian's front room. Everything looks… shockingly clean.

Emma's mouth is still hanging open when Killian emerges from the kitchen and pauses nervously. "I thought you were napping."

Emma smiles, still looking around at the now-immaculate home that was torn to pieces just last night. "I was. But, uh, then I woke up. What… how did you do all this?"

Killian looks at Doris and smiles. "Some of my friends and parishioners decided to pay me a visit and give me hand in putting my house back together. It was a very welcome surprise. Thank you, Doris."

Doris shakes her head. "No thanks needed, Father," she says. "You've given your all to helping us. It's about time we gave something back."

Emma's heart swells at the thought of so many people reaching out to help Killian when he needs it. She likes the idea that she isn't the only person in town who recognizes how amazing he is.

Killian's eyes flick back to her. "Your family was here, but they left about ten minutes ago to take Henry to see his father. You can probably find them at Granny's."

Emma's breath catches in her throat at the look of anxiety in his eyes. He must be worried that she's still upset with him. "I'll just text them to let them know where I am," she says, holding his gaze. "I think we need to talk."

Killian swallows and nods.

Doris gives them a knowing smile and picks up her bag. "Well, I think I've done all I can here today. I'll give the two of you some privacy."

Killian gives Doris a hug of thanks before she leaves, and he closes and locks the door behind her. Locking up like that is a new habit for him. He wasn't so conscientious about it before Cora.

Emma feels a twinge of pain on his behalf. Yet it amazes her that though he is so clearly not over what Cora did to him, he's trying to give her a second chance, anyway. 

She walks toward him. "I'm not mad at you anymore. I'm not thrilled about Cora and Regina camping out together, but, uh, we did the right thing. I'm not saying it won't fall apart in the end, but for now I think both of them are genuinely trying."

Killian smiles softly and nods. "Good. I'm glad to hear it."

Emma steps toward him and reaches out to take his hand. She weaves her fingers through his. "You're a stronger person than I am, to try to forgive Cora like this."

He sighs and steps even closer, to rest his hook lightly on her hip. "I am trying—but I confess, it's not going to be easy. I don't fancy being left alone with her anytime soon."

"We'll make sure you aren't." She raises her free hand to caress his cheek. "We probably have a tense week ahead of us, but at least we can get through it together."

"Can we?" He raises his eyebrows, his eyes searching her expression. "My choice this morning didn't change things?"

"No," she says. "It didn't." She leans forward to kiss him softly, hoping that her actions will reassure him in a way her words haven't.

The tension melts from his shoulders and he leans into with a sigh. 

Emma smiles. Everything will be alright.

They snuggle on the couch for the next hour, sipping hot cocoa and chatting. Emma fills him in on the plan to watch over Regina and Cora, and he tells her about all the people who came to help him fix up his house. She smiles when he tells her that Jefferson and Grace took two of the cats home with them.

"Good," she says. "That big house of his is way too empty."

"My place has been feeling a little empty, too, since Henry went home," Killian admits. "So I think I'll keep the other two, myself. I could use the company."

He helps her work out a plan to have Dr. Hopper supervise the first few meetings between Regina and Henry, and he agrees with Emma's suggestion that she should require Regina to attend weekly therapy sessions as a condition of letting her back into Henry's life. She's glad Killian will back her up on this one. Regina won't like it, but now that Emma has the leverage of what Regina let Cora do to Killian, she can use it to get Regina to agree to the conditions.

Eventually they lapse into a sleepy silence, curled up against one another on the couch. She could really get used to this.

Emma hasn't noticed the passage of time until she realize how dark the room is getting. Somehow they missed the sun setting.

She sits up straight with a sigh. "I'd better get back to my parents and Henry, now," she says.

Killian agrees. He walks her to the door and says goodbye with a lingering kiss. "See you tomorrow?" he asks.

"Absolutely."

She picks up Henry at Granny's on the way home. He seems to be getting along well with Neal. She's not sure how she feels about that. A part of her is still convinced that Neal will only end up hurting Henry—but maybe she's not being fair about Neal's second chance. She'll have to try to follow Killian's example, and be a little more hopeful about these things.

Neal does tell her one thing that alarms her—he's invited his fiancée, Tamara, to join them in Storybrooke. She's going to gather up all the baggage that they abandoned at their hotel and drive down to meet them.

Emma grits her teeth. "We already have one tourist wandering around town—and I'm sure he's already suspicious of something from the way Leroy dragged him out of his bed this morning for an impromptu fishing trip." That was the only plan they could come up with to keep Greg Mendel from witnessing the magical duel on Main Street. "We can barely keep the weirdness of this place hidden from one guy, let alone two."

"Don't worry about it," says Neal, his voice gratingly nonchalant. "I'm going to tell her the truth."

Emma raises her eyebrows, unsure of how to respond to that. "Are you sure about that?"

Neal nods. "I trust her. And I owe her the truth. She's a permanent part of my life, now, and so is Henry. The sooner I get everything out in the open with her, the better."

Emma swallows hard, her old pain welling in her chest. So. Neal feels like he owes Tamara the truth—but he never felt that way about _her_. Did he ever really love her at all?

She shakes her head. No. She needs to put the past behind her. "Fine. But if things go south, you need to know that I'll do anything it takes to keep this town safe—even if that means calling on Regina to do a little memory-erasing magic. Got it?"

"I understand." Neal nods. "And one last thing—I'm not really comfortable about Henry spending time with Killian. He and I have a pretty complicated past, and I just don't trust the guy."

Emma frowns. Neal found out he had a son two days ago. He has no right to tell her how to parent him. She realizes with a flash that this must be exactly how Regina feels about _her_. She sighs. "Well, I do. And so does Henry. And we have very good reason to. He's not the same man you knew in Neverland. Eventually, you'll see that."

Neal clenches his jaw and gives a sharp nod. "Maybe. We'll see."

Emma is relieved when she finally gets home to share a family dinner with David, Mary Margaret, and Henry. A sense of peace and rightness settles over her. Yes. _This_ is how things ought to be. Except for the empty seat where she can imagine Killian joining them.

She smiles contentedly. Soon. Someday soon. And then everything will be perfect.

~ ~ ~

Neal glances up at Killian from where he sits in a booth, already nursing a beer. He raises his eyebrows. "You've got to be kidding me."

Killian's brows raise in confusion until Neal gestures at his clothes. "What's with the get-up?"

Killian glances down at himself. Ah. Yes. He's changed back into his clerical clothes for the first time since Neal arrived in town. He sighs and meets Neal's gaze. "This is my professional attire," he explains. "I'm the priest of the Storybrooke Episcopal Church."

Neal's eyes go wide. "You're serious? You. Are a priest."

Killian sits on the bench seat across from Neal and nods. "I am."

Neal shakes his head. "You mean the curse made you think that you're a priest. It's not real."

Killian squeezes his lips together. He needs to be patient. Neal has a lot of catching up to do. "Initially, yes. However I assure you that my conversion to the faith is genuine. I'm committed to my vocation, and I fully intend to continue on in this capacity for the foreseeable future."

"Huh." Neal takes a gulp of his beer. "I never would have pegged Emma as the type to fall for a priest."

"She was as surprised by the development as you are."

Neal takes another gulp. "And did the two of you get together before or after you got your memories back?"

"Before."

Neal's brows shoot up. "And you two managed to stay together through all that?"

"Things were… a bit rocky between us for a few weeks," Killian says, feeling no desire to delve into the complex details. "But yes. We've made it work."

Neal lets out a huff. "I'm gonna need a few more beers." He flags down the night-shift waitress and orders another. 

She turns to Killian. "And what can I get for you, Father?"

"Chamomile tea. Thank you, Suzie."

Neal eyes Killian suspiciously. "You're on a first-name basis with the cute waitress?"

This meeting was going about as well as Killian had expected. "In time you'll find that I'm on a first-name basis with half the town. And Suzie's whole family is part of my congregation."

"Of course they are." Neal takes another gulp, draining his glass. "So if you're so big into this priest thing, why are you fixing up your ship? Henry told me all about it—and don't give me this _youth camp_ crap that you've been feeding Henry."

"That ship was my home for more than two centuries. I confess that seeing her languish as a poorly maintained museum offended my sensibilities. But after giving the matter further thought, I determined that using the ship as both a potential source of revenue for the church and also as a growth and character building experience for teens would be an excellent way to put her to use. So that youth camp crap, as you so eloquently put it, is exactly the truth."

Suzie arrives with their drinks, so there is a brief lull. As soon as she steps away, Neal takes a sip of his new beer. "Henry and Emma might be buying your act, but you're not fooling me, buddy. I know you."

"Not nearly as well as you think you do," Killian replies. He rips open a packet of sugar and pours it into his tea. He spent decades trying to find a way to make amends with Bae before leaving Neverland. Yet now that he faces him none of his words of apology seem sufficient. But he has to find a way to at least try. He owes that to the man.

"I thought you were more of a rum guy," Neal says, gesturing to the tea.

Killian stirs his tea a moment longer before replying. "In addition to memories of a conversion to Christianity, the curse also granted me memories of being an alcoholic who'd committed to following the twelve steps of sobriety. I remember being sober more than eight years, though if you factor in the curse twenty-eight is a more accurate number. I've chosen to stick with my commitment to sobriety, along with my commitment to the church."

Neal's eyes narrow. "I'm starting to think you're not just fooling Emma—you're fooling yourself, too."

"I confess the same thing has occurred to me many times this past month," says Killian. "But I've had too many experiences that reaffirmed my faith for me to turn my back on it, no matter what my old instincts might tell me. I'll still far from a perfect man, Bae, but I'm trying to be better. That's all any of us can do."

"Don't call me that. The name is Neal, now."

Killian squeezes his lips together and nods. "Of course. I apologize, Neal." He takes a deep breath. Now is as good a time as any to tell Neal exactly what's on his mind. "Look—you may or may not know that the steps of the program involve admitting to our wrongs and attempting to make amends for any harm we've caused. I need to do that with you, Neal." Killian stares down at his tea and takes a deep breath. "I should have told you the truth, when you came aboard my ship. And then I should have fought for you, instead of turning you over to Felix. I was wrong, and the harm I caused you through my mistakes is… incalculable." Killian's voice is soft. Abandoning Bae to Pan is one of the largest wrongs of his entire life—and that was a long life filled with many wrongs. He shakes his head. "I regretted letting you go before you were even off my ship. I'm more sorry than I have words to say. And I want to make things up to you. I don't know how—but I'm willing to try. I just want you to know that I’m here for you. I want to help you build a relationship with your son. I want to be your friend, if you're willing to have me."

Neal stares at him long and hard before speaking. "I'm not sure what to say."

Killian shakes his head. "You're not obligated to say anything at all. I'm offering my apology and my assistance, but it's completely up to you whether or not you wish to accept them."

Neal looks down at his beer for a moment. "Maybe Emma's right. Maybe you have changed."

"At the very least, I'm making a damned hard effort," says Killian, permitting himself a slight smile.

Neal nods. "You know, Henry talks about you all the time. And I gotta admit I don't like it."

"I have no intention of trying to take your place in his life," says Killian. "I'm merely his friend. You're his father." There are a hundred other things he wants to say—a part of him wants to bitterly point out that he'd have a relationship with Henry already if he hadn't abandoned Emma pregnant and heartbroken to take the fall for his crimes. But throwing accusations, no matter how satisfying it might be in the moment, would only set things back further—not to mention endangering his relationship with Henry in the process. "I've tried to be here for Henry when he needed it. Just like I wasn't there for you when you needed it most. I care about the boy, and I want to do what's right, this time. And part of what's right is helping him to build a relationship with his father."

Neal looks thoughtful. "I think I was jealous, the way he talks about you. You have the kind of relationship with him that I want to have. If you really want to help me, maybe you could give me some tips? Help me get to know my son a little better?"

"Gladly." Killian nods.

Neal nods in return. Then he says, "And one more thing."

"Yes?"

"My fiancée, Tamara, is coming to Storybrooke. I want to tell her truth. About everything."

"That's a good idea. I've adopted a policy of complete honesty with Emma. I think it's helped our relationship a great deal," says Killian.

"Yeah." Neal looks down and toys with his glass. "I'm just not sure how well the whole fairytale character thing is going to go over. It's not every day your fiancé tells you he's the son of Rumplestiltskin, you know? Tamara's not really religious, but her family is. Having a priest on my side might help smooth things over. She might be more inclined to believe me if you help back me up."

The request is unexpected, but Killian thinks it’s a very positive sign that Neal is willing to ask for his help in such an important matter. "Of course. I'll do anything I can to help."

"Great. Thanks. She's getting into town tomorrow evening, but I probably won't break the news to her until the day after. I want to ease into it."

"I understand."Killian pulls out one of his cards and passes it over to Neal. "Here's my cell number. You can call or text anytime you need me."

Neal is actually beginning to smile. "Okay. Good. Thanks. I think I'll need all the help I can get on this one."

"I'm here for you," Killian reasserts. He knows he can never truly make amends for what happened in Neverland, but he'll whatever he can to try.

Neal grins and takes another sip of his beer. "Thanks, man. Now—how about you tell me a little more about Henry?"

 

TBC


	24. Chapter 24

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m sure most of my readers thought this story was abandoned, and for awhile so did I. But the muse is back! I have another one and a half chapters beyond this written, and I hope to update twice a month until the story is finished. It'll 28-ish chapters total. Love everyone who stuck with this story!

Emma walks toward the Bed and Breakfast, clinging to Killian’s hand. Henry and Neal have been together all afternoon, doing some “father and son bonding.” She’s still not too keen on the thought of Neal taking over a part of Henry’s life. It makes her appreciate Regina’s perspective a little more – not that Emma would ever let her anger and jealousy get to the point where she’d try to curse Neal, or run him out of town, or murder him. Regina certainly likes to go to extremes. 

Neal’s fiancée, Tamara, is supposed to be arriving any minute, and Neal wants Emma there for the introduction. 

“This is going to be so uncomfortable,” Emma murmurs.

“I agree – but it’s still better than drawing this out over several days,” Killian replies.

Emma sighs. “I guess you’re right. There’s no way we could do this that would make it less awkward.” She squeezes his hand. “Are you sure you’re okay with sticking around to be Neal’s character witness, or whatever it is he wants you to do?”

“I have to be. I owe it to him.”

She knows that tone. There will be no talking him out of it.

They find Henry and Neal in the lounge, reading the fairytale book together, and Henry tells Neal to keep it as long as he likes. Not that he’ll need it – he knows most of the stories, already. It still stings a little to think about that fact.

A few minutes later, Tamara arrives. She has a slight figure, but comes across as a strong personality. She seems to be putting on a brave face while dealing with the discovery that her fiancé has a secret love-child. Emma feels sympathy for what she’ll be going through later in the evening – being forcibly introduced to fairytale land. It’s not too far different from what she had to go through not so long ago. 

After an uncomfortable introduction followed by a few minutes of awkward chatting, Emma excuses herself to walk Henry home for the night. Something about Tamara is setting off all of her “liar” vibes, but she tries to ignore it. There’s so much emotion – both past and present – tied up in this situation that she’s not sure she trusts herself. Killian follows them to door. “Neal wants me to give him a few minutes to break the news. I’ll wait here until he’s ready for me to come back in.” 

Emma nods. “Okay. Call me when you’re done.” She gives his hand one last squeeze before she heads out. It isn’t enough. It’s been two nights since they spent the night together. And sure, they’ve been busy and exhausted. But damn, she wants to be with him again. More with every passing hour.

She’ll just have to hope that no new disasters pop up in the next few hours, and that Henry falls asleep fast.

She smiles down at her son as they walk. “So, how do you like her?”

Henry shrugs. “Too early to tell. But she doesn’t seem like the type of person who enjoys fairytales.”

Emma can’t agree more.

~ ~ ~  
Killian can tell that Neal’s conversation isn’t going well when he hears the sound of Tamara’s raised voice. He can’t make out the words from where he sits on the staircase, but he knows an argument when he hears one. Still, it’s not his place to intrude until Neal asks him to. At this point he somewhat hopes that he’ll be left out of it.

No such luck.

Neal steps out of the lounge and says, “Killian, man, come back me up. Tell her that all this stuff is the truth.”

Killian lets out a disappointed breath and stands, walking into the lounge after Neal. Tamara stands in front of a window, her arms folded and a scowl on her face. “Oh, so now you think you can get your fake-priest friend to convince me that this isn’t the worst practical joke of all time? And do you honestly expect me to believe he and your ex are together, and that you aren’t still pining for her?”

That last jab feels like a blow to the stomach, but Killian fights to maintain his composure. Even if Neal does harbor some lingering feelings for Emma, she doesn’t feel the same way in return. Does she? No. He can’t start down this road. He forces a smile. “I assure you that nothing is fake about my vocation. I can give you my card, and you can call the church in the morning. My church manager will be happy to confirm my identity, as well as the fact that I am indeed very much involved with Emma. So, perhaps we can turn back to the other issues at hand.”

Tamara continues to frown. “Like the issue of my fiancé claiming that everyone here comes from a fairytale?”

“Well, some of us come from classic literature,” Killian amends, and then squeezes his lips together, knowing that he’s said exactly the wrong thing.

Tamara’s voice is cold and razor-edged. “Oh. Really?”

Her reactions remind him far too much of Emma’s outburst when August first tried to tell her the truth. She says that she’s forgiven him for his part in lying to her, but fresh pangs of guilt stir up in his gut. Killian shifts from foot to foot and waves his hand vaguely, “Well, one of our doctors is Victor Frankenstein, and I… well… I was Captain Hook.”

Tamara’s eyes shoot to his prosthetic. “You have got be fucking kidding me.”

Killian turns to Neal. “I’m sorry – I’m only making things worse. Perhaps I ought to leave.”

“Wait,” Neal holds out a restraining hand. He turns back to Tamara. “Babe – you went to church all growing up. How easy do you think it would be to talk a reverend or a priest into pulling this kind of prank?”

Tamara clenches her jaw and looks down, but doesn’t answer.

Killian sees another opening. He owes it to Neal to make things right, just as he owed it to Emma a few weeks ago. “I know it seems preposterous that a follower of Jesus Christ could believe himself to be a former denizen of a story-book realm populated by witches and fairies and a pantheon of gods. Believe me, I’ve struggled to reconcile my conflicting beliefs. I still struggle. But I also have faith that for some reason our Father chose to allow us to be transported to this land, where He and only He governs. We’re here, and in spite of the fantastical natures of our past lives, this is where our futures will play out. This isn’t easy for Neal to tell you, just like it isn’t easy for you to believe. But trust me – he’s taking a leap of faith in your relationship. Faith that after admitting this impossible truth to you, your relationship can become even stronger than when it was based on a much more comfortable lie. Give him a chance. Please.”

Tamara swallows hard, her eyes flicking up to meet Killian’s gaze. “No preacher I’ve ever met would have made up the kind of lie you just told.”

Killian nods. “Because it isn’t a lie.”

“Walk around town and ask anyone,” Neal adds. “They’ll all tell you that what we’re saying is the truth.”

“Perhaps we could put together a list,” Killian suggests, “with the names people use in this town and the names they used back in our previous lives. You could talk to some of them, and see that we’re not being false with you.”

Tamara’s face is still tight with suspicion, but she nods. “Fine. I’ll give you the benefit of the doubt for twenty-four hours. But if I’m not convinced by tomorrow night, I’m out. Out of this town, and out of your life.”

Neal nods, a glum expression on your face. “Okay. I understand. But I think you’ll be convinced.”

He and Killian take a few minutes to write up a list of names, and when they hand it over to Tamara, Killian sees something in her eyes that sends a shiver down his spine. If he hadn’t known better, he would have called it a gleam of triumph – like she’d finally gotten exactly what she wanted out of the conversation. But that couldn’t be. It must just be his emotions stirred up by Bae – Neal – and all the history between them.

Killian wishes them good luck and good night, and heads home, his emotions still full of conflict and unease. If he’d come clean to Emma immediately, just as Neal was coming clean with Tamara, might he have spared her some of the struggles she had to go through? They would never know, now. He only hopes things will work out between Neal and Tamara with fewer trials and disasters than it’s taken to smooth things out with Emma.

~ ~ ~   
Once the slow and steady rhythm of Henry’s breathing convinces Emma that he’s truly asleep, she creeps down the stairs and joins her parents in cleaning the kitchen while she waits for Killian to call.

She nearly drops the broom in her scramble to answer her cell as soon as it rings, and Mary Margaret gives her an amused smile.

“How did it go?” she asks Killian.

“As well as can be expected. She’s not entirely convinced, but she’s willing to give him a second chance.” His voice is tight. The stress of all he’s dealt with over the past few days must really be getting to him.

She lowers her voice. “Can I come over for a little while? Henry’s already in bed.”

“Yeah. I’d like that.”

“Great. See you in a few minutes.”

She closes her phone and turns to see the knowing looks on her parents’ faces, and feels embarrassment welling. So this is what it’s like to have parents who know about your sex life. Definitely not the part of having a family that she’d missed growing up.

“Henry will be fine,” says Mary Margaret. “We won’t wait up.”

David, red-faced, only nods in agreement. Emma knows how he feels.

After a quick goodnight she shrugs into her jacket and heads out. It’s amazing how her heart still races at the thought of being with him.

He answers the door quickly, and she steps up to hug him as soon as she’s inside. She’s still getting used to the idea that this is her new normal – being able to hold him and be with him without worrying about imminent threats hovering over them.

“It was really good of you to help Neal out with this,” she says, still swaying slightly in his arms.

“Mmm.” He nuzzles against her, and she smiles. He says, “After what passed between us in Neverland, I owe him. But I’d have helped him even if I didn’t. He’s Henry’s dad – and I want Henry to have a happy family.”

God, the way his mind works is so amazing to her. That he can care so much about the people around him. “Well, you’ve done a pretty good job with that so far.”

She draws back just enough to tilt her head up for a gentle kiss. After, Killian holds her gaze, his eyes bright. His voice is soft when he speaks. “Being there for all that really got me thinking. You have no idea how grateful I am that you were willing to give me a second chance after all the lies I told to you. I’m still not certain I deserved it, but I’ll forever be grateful.”

Emma cups her hand around the side of his face and caresses him with her thumb, tracing a delicate line between the corner of his lips and the slight hollow beneath his cheek bone. She still can’t imagine what her life would be like if he hadn’t been there for her while Henry was cursed, and then again after the curse was broken. He brought her back to her family, and he understands her in a way that no one else does.

Just before August told her the truth, she’d been contemplating if what she felt for Killian was really love, and now she feels it again, swelling in her chest and filling her up. If this isn’t what love feels like, then she really hasn’t got a clue.

“You are more deserving of a second chance than anyone I know,” she whispers, and kisses him again, deeper.

When they pull apart for air, she grins. “Do you want to go upstairs?”

His answering smile sends a thrill through her whole body. “Yes. I think I’d rather like that.”

She laughs, and he laughs in turn, grabbing her hand and tugging her up to his bedroom.

~ ~ ~

Killian doesn’t think that he will ever get over the feel of Emma’s smooth, bare skin against his.

He savors every kiss and every caress. Every utterance that escapes her lips in response to his touch is another treasure, and he touches her again, ready for more treasures to store in his memory.

When her body shakes and her sweet cries of release fill his ears he can’t help but grin at the sheer wonder of it – that Emma chose _him_. That she forgave him. That she still wants him.

She makes her want evident when she tugs him up the bed and pushes him down onto his back, straddling him with a hungry gleam in her eyes.

No. He’ll never, ever, get over it.

~ ~ ~   
Emma hums in contentment and snuggles closer against Killian’s side. He rubs his hand up and down the length of her bare skin, from shoulder to hip, over and over, like he’s petting a cat. She almost laughs at the mental comparison, because she feels on verge of purring. She’ll have to head home eventually, but right now she’s happy exactly where she is. In fact, she’s starting to think that she could get used to doing this every night…

Is it too soon to be thinking about that sort of thing? She twirls her finger through Killian’s chest hair as she ponders it. A long time ago she thought Neal was “The One” after just a few weeks together, and paid dearly for her mistake. She doesn’t want to leap too fast, again.

But Killian isn’t Neal. Far from it. And they’ve known each other for more than five months. So maybe in another month or so – once they’ve had time to really _be with each other_ – she’ll bring up the topic of their potential future together. But not quite yet.

Still, she feels compelled to say something to let him know how much he means to her, but she has trouble finding the words.

“Killian?”

“Yes, love?”

She allows herself a tiny grin at the casual term of endearment that means so much more now than it ever did, before. “I just wanted to say… that… this thing – you and me – it’s good. It’s really good. And I’m happy.”

He shifts onto his side so that he can meet her gaze, and the soft smile of wonder on his face makes her heart leap into her throat. “I’m happy, too,” he replies. “Happier than I’ve been in very, very long time.”

In that moment she knows – no more doubts, no more hesitations. She loves him. It happened in such an improbable way, but it did happen. She loves him.

The words are on the tip of her tongue, but her throat seems to close up as soon as she opens her mouth to say them. So instead, she says nothing at all, and merely snuggles closer until she can rest her head on his chest and listen to the strong and steady beat of his heart.

~ ~ ~   
When Killian arrives at the church early the next morning, a smile on his face as his thoughts linger on memories of the previous night, he finds Belle there, waiting for him, and visibly upset.

He leads her back to his office and sits down across from her to ask what she needs to talk about.

She shakes her head, looking down at her hands. “Cora dropped by the library, yesterday.”

“She did?” Killian’s heart begins to race, and he tightens his grip on the armrest of his chair.

“Yes. She said she wanted to apologize for hurting me, but then she started to talk about her old friendship with Rumple. About how he was her teacher, and about how close they once were. She didn’t come right out and say it, but I know she was trying to imply that they used to be lovers.” Belle swallows hard and sinks back in her chair.

“Well. That sounds a little… uncomfortable.” Killian can’t think of anything else to say. He certainly doesn’t want to spend any time thinking about Cora in any capacity, right now, with the memories of torture still fresh in his mind, but thinking of her as the Dark One’s lover is particularly repellent.

“It was more than uncomfortable. I think she was threatening me. I think she wants to drive me away from him, so she can win him back for herself. And after what she did to us – to _you_ – I’m frightened of what she might do.” Her face is pale, and lines of worry stand out around her eyes.

Killian closes his eyes briefly, and sees images of Cora’s knife slashing down at him and Cora’s hammer shattering his fingers. He swallows hard, and raises his eyes to Belle’s. “You have good reason to be frightened. Even with her heart, I’m worried about what she might choose to do. Have you told Rumple?”

“No.” Her hands fidget in her lap. “I’m trying to help him stay away from dark magic. I’m trying to help him find a better way. But if he knew Cora was threatening me, he might lose his temper and do something that I can’t control.”

Killian sighs. Unfortunately, her worries are justified. He promises to discuss the issue with both David and Regina, to have them keep a closer watch on Cora, but he’s not certain it will be enough.

After she leaves he sinks back in his chair and rubs his forehead. It looks like it’s going to be another one of those days.

~ ~ ~  
When Emma walks into Granny’s for her morning coffee, she bumps right into Tamara.

“Oh my God, I’m so sorry,” she says, and bends over to pick up a piece of paper that Tamara dropped. She glances at it quickly, and is surprised to see a list of town residents and their fairytale identities. What is Tamara up to?

“It’s okay,” replies Tamara. “I never notice what’s going on around me before my morning coffee, either.” Her smile is a little stiff, but that’s not surprising.

“Well, I hope you’re settling in okay. And, uh, I hope everything is working out,” Emma waves her hand vaguely. “I mean, it’s a lot to take in.”

“That’s an understatement,” Tamara replies. “I’ve talked to enough people now that either this big story of yours is a town-wide conspiracy, or it’s true. The rational part of me is still hoping for conspiracy, but I can’t help it – I’m starting to believe the story.”

“I know this can’t be easy. But if there’s anything I can do to help, just let me know,” Emma offers, though she doubts Tamara will take her up on it.

Tamara nods with another stiff smile. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

Emma watches Tamara leave, and once more her inner lie detectors are blaring at her. There is something decidedly off about Tamara. If she tells anyone about what’s really going on in Storybrooke, there could be big trouble. As much as she hates it, Emma realizes that she’s going to have to talk to Neal.

She meets Neal and Henry at the park a little later, and watches them with a smile on her face for a few minutes. Neal might have disappointed _her_ , but at least for now he seems determined to be a good dad for Henry. It seems like Killian is really onto something with his “town of second chances,” thing.

Her peaceful moment is shattered when Regina and Cora stride up, both glaring at the sight of Neal and Henry together.

“So that – person – is the father of my grandson?” Cora asks with a sneer.

“Apparently,” Regina replies. “And, if I’ve heard correctly, he’s also Rumplestiltskin’s long-lost son.” She glares at Emma. “Did you really think you could hide all this from me?”

Emma frowns and folds her arms across her chest. “I wasn’t hiding anything. I was just too busy trying to stop you and your mother from destroying everyone I care about to stop for a chat.”

Regina only huffs. “Besides, that man hid from his father for centuries. So why is he here, now?”

And this reminds Emma of exactly how hard the ongoing custody issues with Regina are going to be, especially now that a third party is involved. “Relax. He’s not here for his father, he just wants to spend some time with his son.”

“As if men like him can really be considered fathers,” snipes Cora. “He abandoned his son before his birth. It’s ridiculous of him to think he can lay a claim now. Not that you were much better.” Cora shoots her a dirty side-eye.

This day just keeps getting worse. “I did what I had to do to give Henry a good life. Which I never would have had to do if I’d grown up in a safe and happy home like my parents wanted me to.” There. If Cora and Regina want to talk trash about the distant past, then so can she.

Regina huffs again and ignores Emma’s jab. “I expect to see you and Henry at our session with Dr. Hopper tomorrow. Don’t let that man get in the way.”

“We’ll be there,” Emma growls. She’s glad when Regina and Cora both turn to stalk away, but her heart still lies heavy in her chest.

A bit later, while Henry occupies himself on a swing, Neal ambles over to her. “He’s pretty great, isn’t he?”

Emma restrains herself from rolling her eyes. “Yeah. He is.” She pauses, and then asks, “How are things going with Tamara?”

Neal shrugs. “It’s not easy. She’s still pretty rattled by the whole fairytale thing. But I think she’s coming around to it. I think we’ll be able to work through this.”

Emma squeezes her lips together and takes a deep breath, thinking for a moment before deciding to voice her concerns. “Are you really sure she can be trusted with all this? I mean, you’ve only been together a few months. You’ve really rushed into this engagement.”

Neal shakes his head. “God, Emma. I should have known you’d react this way. I can trust her, okay? When you know, you know.”

Maybe it’s just paranoia on her part, but Emma has to be sure. “I saw her walking around with a list of everyone’s fairytale names. What is she doing with that?”

“Killian and I made that list for her,” Neal sounds more than a little offended. “We want her to use it to help get her bearings around here. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were complaining about Tamara because you’re jealous.”

Now it’s Emma’s turn to be offended. “Far from it, Neal. But I have every right to be concerned about the trustworthiness of anyone you choose to bring into my town, and into our son’s life.”

“Look – you can trust her. Just stay out of her business, and everything will be fine. I promise. I would never let anyone do anything to hurt Henry. Do you at least believe that much?” 

Emma takes a breath to calm herself. She doesn’t want Henry to see them fighting. “Yes. Okay. Maybe I’m overreacting. It’s just going to take a little time for us to get used to this whole thing.”

“Well, I’m still struggling to get used to you and Hook. So welcome to the club.” He shakes his head again.

She wants to tell him that she and Killian are a completely different situation than he and Tamara, but she can’t. In reality, she doesn’t know. Tamara might be exactly the woman Neal thinks she is, and it’s only maternal protectiveness causing her to worry. She hopes that’s true. The last thing she needs is one more person in town stirring up trouble.

“I’m sorry,” she says. “Alright. I’ll trust your judgment. It was unfair of me to question her.”

Neal’s shoulders slump. “Yeah, well… I guess I’m just a little sensitive right now. I was out walking Tamara around town after breakfast when we ran into my father. I introduced her, and he looked… livid. I know him well enough to know exactly what he might do to someone that he doesn’t want around in my life. It left me a little on edge.”

“I understand. Completely. I mean, from what I hear, Belle’s really softened him, but I’d be a little nervous in that situation, too.”

Neal shifts on his feet, looking anxious. “I just wish I knew where he had his dagger stashed. Then I could take it and make sure he never hurts anyone again. You know about the dagger, right?”

Emma nods. “Yes. I know all about. Actually –“ She pauses. She promised Killian that she wouldn’t tell anyone else about the dagger. But if anyone has the right to know, it’s Neal. She stiffens her shoulders. “Your father doesn’t have the dagger, right now. I do.”

Neal’s eyes go wide. “You do? Then you can just order him not to hurt Tamara. Problem solved.”

“Problem not solved. I don’t actually have it on me. I hid it. I buried it in the forest, across the town line where no one can get to it,” Emma confesses.

“Except my father, who has his magic shawl.” Neal’s voice is raw and angry. “He could be out there right now, digging it up.”

“Not likely,” Emma replies. “He has no magic across the town line. He won’t be able to trace the dagger. He could dig all over the forest for years without finding it.”

“I’d still feel safer if I could get my hands on it.” Neal stares down at her, and she can’t help but sympathize.

“Look – if he doesn’t have free will, he can’t have the shot at a second chance that we’re offering to everyone else in town. But I also know how dangerous he can be. So if he starts acting suspicious or shady in any way, I promise I’ll take you right to the dagger and let you have it. Okay?” She isn’t happy about this promise, but after all his father has done to him, she owes him this much control.

“Okay,” he replies, finally smiling.

After lunch with Henry, Emma goes back to work. There’s a lot of catch-up paperwork to do from after the curse was broken, and she and David need to work out a regular patrol schedule. She’s starting to wonder if Ruby might be convinced to come back on a part-time basis to help cover some of the patrols.

When she arrives home she delighted by the surprise that her parents have asked Killian over to join them for dinner. Not even his news about Cora harassing Belle is enough to dampen her spirits.

As she sits around the table with all her family – her parents, Henry, and Killian – she feels as happy as she’s ever been. This is exactly what she’s wanted her entire life, and now that there are no more curses or imminent threats looming, she can finally enjoy it. It feels like her personal happily ever after.

The next morning at nine she and Henry head to their first group session with Dr. Hopper and Regina. But Regina never shows. And she doesn’t answer her phone.

At Henry’s insistence they swing by Regina’s house to see what’s going on. Cora answers the door, a frantic look in her eyes. “Have you seen Regina?” she demands before Emma can say a word.

“I was going to ask you the same thing,” Emma replies.

Cora shakes her head. “She left just after seven to fetch some coffee, and I haven’t seen or heard from her since. Let me assure you, Miss Swan, that if anything has happened to my daughter, I’ll hold you personally responsible.”

Great. Looks like another typical day in Storybrooke.

 

TBC


	25. Chapter 25

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here’s the second chapter of my revival of this wip. I really appreciate the wonderful response to my bringing this back! I love my readers. I think I’ll be able to wrap the whole thing up in another 3 or 4 chapters after this.

At Granny’s Ruby reports that Regina did show up a little after seven for coffees to-go, and that she had what looked like a tense conversation with the tourist, Greg Mendel, on her way out. Emma leaves Henry with Mary Margaret while she canvasses the rest of the major businesses, and David goes to search city hall.

When they regroup in an hour, it’s clear that no one has seen Regina since she left Granny’s.

Cora, insistent on being a part of the search, paces the loft, her arms folded. “Incompetence. Sheer incompetence. If you’d let me work a tracking spell I’d have found my daughter by now.”

Emma takes a deep breath. She can’t trust Cora as far as she can throw her. But the fear in Henry’s eyes is intense. For better or worse, he still loves Regina. She glances at her parents. Silently they both nod.

“Okay,” Emma says. “Try it.”

With a wicked gleam in her eyes, Cora pulls a pair of Regina’s earrings out of her pocket and waves her hand over them, enveloping them in a purple glow. When the glow subsides she stretches out her hand and stares intently at the earrings for a moment, and then frowns.

“What’s happening?” Henry asks.

“Nothing. Which is a problem.” Cora sounds genuinely worried. “They were supposed to float on the air and lead us right to Regina. But it’s not working. I don’t know why. This spell has never failed me before.”

Emma curses under her breath. “Okay. Either Regina doesn’t want to be found, or,” she glances at Henry. She promised there would be no more lies. “Or someone took her. Someone powerful enough to hide her from your spells.”

Henry’s eyes go wide. “We have to find her! I don’t want her to get hurt.”

“I know, kid.” Emma pulls him close and hugs him. “We’ll find her. I promise.”

Emma calls Killian. There’s no one else she’d rather have by her side at a time like this. He agrees to meet her immediately.

Emma, her parents, and Cora stop off at the Bed and Breakfast to leave Henry with Neal, and Killian meets them there. He gives her hand a reassuring squeeze as they head inside. 

As soon as they see Neal, Emma’s eyes narrow. “Where’s Tamara?” she asks after greeting him.

“Out running. She’s training for a marathon. Not even finding a living fairytale can stop her.” He smiles slightly, the affection in his eyes unmistakable. Emma would be happy for him if she didn’t have so many doubts swirling in her mind.

As soon as she and her group step outside, leaving Neal and Henry behind, Emma voices her concern. “I can’t help but wonder if Tamara might be a part of this. I mean, she’s still new to Neal’s life, and this happened right after she showed up. Every time I’m around her my superpower keeps blaring at me that she’s hiding something.”

Mary Margaret frowns. “Are you sure? Your superpower has been known to be unreliable. Especially when you’re emotional. And I know that having to share Henry with yet another person is stirring up a lot of feelings for you.”

Emma shakes her head, frustration welling. She wishes Mary Margaret could still just be a friend, instead of acting so maternal. “That has nothing to do with it.”

“Still,” says David, “let’s not jump to any conclusions. We should search the woods before we start interrogating Neal’s fiancée.”

Emma huffs, but agrees. David and Mary Margaret head to the forest on the north side of town, and Emma, Killian and Cora take the west side. After they climb into Emma’s cruiser, Killian turns to her. “I think you may be right about Tamara. I want nothing but happiness for Neal, but there were a few moments last night when I got a very bad feeling about her.”

“At least you believe me,” Emma replies. If Killian can sense something wrong with Tamara, too, then maybe it isn’t just all in her head.

“If this woman has done something to my daughter, why are we bothering with a search of the woods?” Cora demands.

Emma meets Killian’s eyes, and there is an instant understanding. “We’re not,” says Emma. “We’re going to find Tamara and get to the bottom of this.”

~ ~ ~  
Killian fidgets restlessly in the front passenger seat of Emma’s cruiser, parked a short distance from the Bed and Breakfast. He can’t be comfortable with Cora sitting behind him, no matter how much her heart may have changed her.

Emma senses his discomfort and stretches her arm out to pat his leg. “You alright?”

His eyes flick to the mirror where he can see Cora’s face, and more memories of his day of torture flash through his mind. Why the bloody hell had he insisted that Cora go with them, so he could “keep an eye on her”? He should have known better. He returns his gaze to Emma. “Not really. But I will be.”

“If my presence is so troubling to you, Hook, I’d be happy to do this job on my own,” Cora says, her voice sending nerves tingles down his spine. 

“No,” he snaps. “We’ll do this together, just as we’ve planned.”

“Fine,” she growls. “Just stay out of my way when it’s time to rescue my daughter.”

This time Emma looks back at Cora, fury burning in her eyes. “Don’t you dare threaten him again, or I swear to God I’ll be pulling that heart back out of your chest and stomping on it. Got it?”

As much as he appreciates Emma’s passion when it comes to protecting him, he grimaces at her choice of threats. “Can we please refrain from any heart removal, today? We’ve a job to do. And if I’m not mistaken, now is our chance.” He gestures at the B and B, where Neal and Henry are heading out, and turning away from them down Main Street.

They wait until the father and son are out of sight, and then Emma pulls up to the B and B. Once inside, Emma makes quick work of the lock on Neal’s door. Killian smiles in admiration. Inside they find a sweater that clearly belongs to Tamara. Emma hands it over to Cora. “Okay. Do your thing.”

This time the spell works. The sweater floats like a leaf on the wind, and drifts out of the room and down the hall. They all walk swiftly to follow it outside and toward the seaside.

They follow the sweater toward the cannery until it turns sharply toward the beach. A moment later they see Tamara out jogging across the sand.

Emma yanks the sweater out of the air. “Damn it. I really thought we’d find her up to something. But she really is out running, just like Neal said.”

They turn and head away from the beach before Tamara catches sight of them.

“I’m sorry,” Killian murmurs. “I truly thought you were right.” His gut lurches a bit at the prospect that Emma’s lingering feelings for Neal really might have interfered with her superpower. He forces the jealous thought down. He’d been just as mistrustful of Tamara as Emma, and it had nothing to do with jealousy. “I still think something is amiss with her.”

“Yeah, well, we’ll have to set that aside for now. I guess we’re back to searching the woods,” Emma says.

“The damnable incompetence in this place is going to cost my daughter her life,” Cora grumbled. “Rest assured, if that happens, all of you will pay.”

Emma’s eyes darken. “That’s it. I’ve had enough of you. I’m dropping you back off at Regina’s. You can call if she turns up. Until then, stay the hell out of our way.”

As relieved as Killian is when they drop off Cora, the vicious glare she sends them shakes him. They have to find Regina soon, or Cora won’t be stopped.

~ ~ ~

They find nothing in the woods, just as Emma expected. Tamara might have been just running when they found her, but a little voice in the back of Emma’s mind keeps telling her that she wasn’t wrong. Somehow, Tamara is caught up in this. Even so, she keeps her ongoing suspicions to herself when they meet back up at the B and B that evening.

“We talked to Greg Mendel,” says David, “He certainly seems a little suspicious, but I couldn’t get any sign that he’s done anything wrong.”

“And there was nothing in the woods,” Killian adds. “So we’re back to square one.”

Mary Margaret nods, and Emma hugs Henry to her side. She knows this hasn’t been an easy day for him.

“We didn’t find Regina in the woods, but we found someone else,” Mary Margaret adds. “August.”

“August? He’s here?” Neal perks up, and Emma frowns. If she’d had any idea those two knew each other – any idea they’d worked together to screw her over – she’d never have trusted a single word out of August’s mouth.

Mary Margaret nods. “He’s hiding in an old trailer out in the forest. He’s… well… he’s turned completely to wood. He refused to come back to town. I think he’s ashamed. I want to take Marco out to find him before the sun goes down.”

Emma sighs. Mary Margaret will always put other people first, won’t she? “Sure. Go ahead. The tracking tonight won’t be easy. I’ll see if we can get Ruby to help with that wolf-nose of hers, but we might not be able to get much done after dark.”

Mary Margaret sets off right away, and the rest of them catch a quick dinner at Granny’s before leaving Henry there under Granny’s watchful eye, and heading out with Ruby. But even her wolf-nose can’t help much.

She shakes her head after several walks up and down Main Street. “I’m sorry. I can’t get a good scent. Regina is all over this town every day. I can’t tell old traces from new ones.”

“It’s alright,” David reassures her. “You did your best.”

After sundown Emma is forced to call it a day. There’s no way they’ll be finding Regina until tomorrow.

Back at the loft, Mary Margaret’s news is no better. When she and Marco got to August’s trailer, he was long gone.

They all go to sleep unhappy. Emma feels as if a dark cloud hovers over them, just waiting for the worst possible moment to unleash a storm.

~ ~ ~

Emma struggles to sleep, and wakes up groggy. It almost makes her miss the insignia-induced dreams. At least those featured her hot boyfriend, even if they detracted from a good night’s sleep.

Neal shows up early with Tamara. They’re going to take Henry out to breakfast and then spend the morning with him while Emma and her parents resume the search for Regina. 

The sight of Tamara still sets off all of Emma’s inner alarms, but after her misstep yesterday, she owes the woman the benefit of the doubt. At least for now. Besides, Neal would never let anything happen to Henry. Still, she gives Henry an extra tight hug before letting him go, as if somehow it will give him a little extra protection.

Once they are gone, she and her parents plan out the search over bowls of breakfast cereal. They’re at the point where a door-to-door canvas isn’t out of the question.

Before they even get their dishes into the sink there is a raucous pounding on the door. David gets there first, and as soon as he opens it, Cora storms in, her hair disheveled and tear tracks obvious on her face.

“My God,” exclaims Mary Margaret. “What happened?”

“They’re torturing her.” Cora’s voice is raw. “When you lot couldn’t find her, I went to Rumple for help. He gave me a potion to put in my eyes. It let me see through Regina’s eyes – to feel what Regina is feeling. And they’re torturing her. She’s strapped to a table in a dark room, and she’s in the most horrible pain. We have to find her.”

David and Mary Margaret start questioning Cora to try to get more detail that will help them find Regina, but Emma can’t help but stare at the woman incredulously. So now she has a problem with torture? After what she did to Killian? Emma’s struggling to have any sympathy.

It’s only one sentence from Cora that snaps Emma out of her reverie.

“It smells… fishy.”

Emma steps toward them. “The fish cannery. We saw Tamara out jogging right by the fish cannery.”

“Emma, you can’t still be suspicious of Tamara, can you?” Mary Margaret looks disappointed in her. 

Too bad. In her gut, Emma knows that she’s right.

Before Emma can respond, Cora cuts in. “Yes! Damn that scheming little shrew. We need to go to the cannery. Now!”

There’s no arguing with that. Emma nods. “Let’s go.”

She sends Killian a quick text before they head out. She wants him to know what’s going down. She’d feel even better if he was there, but she knows Cora won’t wait.

~ ~ ~

Killian wakes early, still frustrated by the failure to find Regina. He’ll never be particularly fond of the woman, but even during his torture, he could see her hesitation and her desire to change. Though he still doubts that Cora has truly changed, Killian knows that Regina sincerely wants to be a better person, and he wants her to have that chance. If he, of all people, can be given the opportunity to make a better future, then she deserves it, too.

Unable to get back to sleep, he heads to the church early. Between the fruitless search for Regina and the time spent with Cora, his soul is much in need of soothing. He turns to the bible to seek out some of his favorite passages. He soon looses himself in the study, feeling the weight of his troubles lifting as he turns his mind to loftier things. He pauses only briefly to greet Doris when she arrives for the day, and then returns to his study.

Around eight-forty he hears some commotion out in the reception area, and steps out of his office to see Doris being stared down by a six-foot wooden man.

August is here.

“It’s alright, Doris. I know him. You don’t need to worry.”

Doris nods, but her face tells him that she plans on worrying anyway.

“Come in,” Killian gestures to August, who follows him into the private office. Killian leans back against his desk and folds his arms. “You’ve looked better.”

August shakes his wooden head. “I’ve felt better, too. The rest of you have fared far better than me since the curse was broken.”

“We’ve had our rough moments,” Killian says. August has no way of knowing the struggles Emma and Mary Margaret went through in the Enchanted Forest, or the torment Cora inflicted on him. He’ll let the man’s selfish evaluation pass, for now. “So, why are you here?”

August slides stiffly to the couch. “I’m here because redemption seems to be your area of expertise. I’ve brought this curse on myself.” He gestures at his wooden body. “I know I have. I’ve lived a life of selfish indulgence, cowardice and dishonesty. Even last night I found myself caught up in the same pattern. I tried to escape town in hope of finding a cure elsewhere. But a reminder of my own failings stopped me at the last moment. I need to make things right. Not with magic or science, but with the promise I made to my father and the Blue Fairy a long time ago. I need to be honest, brave, and true.”

Killian raises an eyebrow. “What’s going on?”

August meets his eyes. “Yesterday Mary Margaret told me about Neal and his fiancée. And after they left, the fiancée came to see me. I know her. I’ve met her before, when we were both seeking magical solutions to our problems in a foreign land. She’s not who she claims to be, and she’s dangerous. She tried to bribe me into leaving town before I could reveal the truth about her. In my weakness, I almost accepted what she offered me. But I found the strength to come back and tell you the truth. We need to warn Neal and the others before she hurts them.”

Killian’s heart sinks like a stone. Emma was right. Tamara is up to something and, once again, Bae will be betrayed by someone he loves and trusts. At least this time he’ll have people here to help him get through it. But first and foremost, Killian needs to call Emma.

~ ~ ~

Emma and David lead the way into the cannery, guns drawn. They creep through the dark corridors and rooms full of equipment. They see a light up ahead, and hear someone moving.

They approach a door with light streaming out the crack underneath. Emma meets David’s gaze, and nods. He nods back. They know what to do.

David kicks in the door, shouting, “Freeze! Police!” and Emma is right on his heels.

Regina lies strapped to a table, various wires hooked to her from a nearby machine. Greg Mendel stands over her. Damn it, they should have known.

“Hands up!” she shouts, and Mendel raises his hands, dropping some sort of control box. His scowl is dark.

“Cuff him,” Emma says. “I’ll take care of Regina.” She holsters her gun while David shoves Mendel against a wall and snaps the cuffs around his wrists.

Regina groans as Emma pulls off the wires that are fixed to her temples. She’s barely conscious.

“What have you done to my daughter!” Cora roars as she stalks into the room.

Mendel, fully cuffed, turns to her, sneering. “Less than she deserves.”

Emma knows what’s going to happen an instant before it occurs, but she’s too far away to stop it.

Cora’s hand is in Mendel’s chest before David can react, and he doesn’t reach Cora in time to stop her from pulling out the man’s heart, and squeezing.

“Stop!” Emma shouts, but it’s too late.

Mendel’s heart crumbles to dust in Cora’s hand, and his lifeless body slumps to the floor.

“No!” Emma runs over, staring incredulously at Mendel’s body, and then up at Cora.

Cora looks sickly satisfied. “He hurt my daughter. No one gets to do that.”

“You can’t just kill people!” Emma says. “That’s not how justice works here.”

“And now we’ll never know if Mendel was working with anyone,” David says, looking as livid as Emma feels.

“Nonsense,” says Cora casually. “Regina can tell us as soon as she recovers. Which is what we should be focusing on right now.”

Mary Margaret is standing beside Regina, and has finished freeing her from the torture device. “We do need to get her out of here.”

Emma grits her teeth. David nods at her. “Go ahead. Get them back to Regina’s place. I’ll call the coroner to come and wait here.”

He steps up to Emma and lowers his voice so Cora can’t hear him. “We can’t just let her do this, regardless of what he did to Regina. We need to ask Gold for a way to prevent her from using magic so that she can face justice.”

Emma nods. Justice for Cora’s crimes is long overdue, heart or no heart.

She and her mother help a groggy Regina out to the car. Cora sits beside her in the back, and as they drive Regina regains more of her senses. 

“I’ll be fine,” she insists when Mary Margaret suggests going to the hospital. “I have no intention of submitting myself to Whale’s treatments.”

The snap is back in her voice. It almost brings a smile to Emma’s face. Now she can get down to business. “Was Mendel working with anyone? Did you see anyone else while you were in there?”

Regina sighs. “There was someone, but I never got a good look at her.”

Emma’s gut lurches. “Her?”

“Yes. It was definitely a woman. I heard her talking to Mendel, but I couldn’t make out their words, and I never saw her. I’m sorry.”

“So am I,” Emma whispers under her breath. It has to be Tamara. Who is currently out with Henry. Shit.

As soon as they get to Regina’s house, Cora insists on calling Gold for his help to remove the anti-magic cuff that Mendel and his partner used to control Regina. “It’s modeled after my own magical cuffs,” she says, studying the black leather surrounding Regina’s lower arm. “But the workings of it are beyond me. I’ve never encountered anything like it.”

Emma paces the foyer and tries calling Neal twice while they wait for Gold. No answer. This can’t be good. She needs to find them. She needs to find Henry.

Just as Gold’s knock sounds on the door, her phone rings. It’s Killian. She lets Mary Margaret get the door, and she answers her phone. “We’ve got Regina,” she says without preamble. “We’re back at her house. Greg Mendel had her. He was working with a woman. She wasn’t there, but it has to be Tamara.”

“That’s… not good,” replies Killian. “I was about to tell you my own news about Tamara.” He proceeds to tell her about August and his past with Tamara, and Emma’s heart sinks lower and lower.

“Killian,” she says, “Neal and Tamara took Henry out this morning. And Neal isn’t answering his phone.”

“Bloody hell,” he says. “I’ll be right over. We have to find them.” They hang up.

Though she’s glad she’ll have Killian by her side in a few minutes, the thought of Tamara doing something to Henry chills her to the bone. She strides into the living room where Gold is examining the cuff on Regina’s arm.

Cora sits with her arm around Regina, cradling her still fragile-looking daughter. “Will you do it? Please? As a favor to an old friend?”

“Any such association we had ended when you chose to marry Regina’s father. I owe you nothing. But I’m always willing to make a deal.” Gold’s familiar stance is as frustrating as ever.

Cora looks stricken, on the verge of tears. They don’t have time for this. 

“We’ve got a bigger problem,” Emma announces. “I’m now more than 95% certain that Tamara was Mendel’s partner. Killian got some intel from August that has me convinced of it.”

Gold straightens up and eyes her with disdain. “And why exactly should we care?”

Emma folds her arms across her chest and glares at him. “Because she’s with Henry and your son right now, and I can’t reach them. We have no idea where they are.”

Gold’s jaw slackens, a hint of fear showing in his eyes.

“We need a spell that can track Neal down. Right now,” Emma says.

Gold swallows hard, and nods. “I have just thing.”

~ ~ ~

Killian arrives just as Gold is placing a drop of blood on the surface of a milky white globe. He takes Emma’s hand, and she smiles at him before turning her attention back to Gold’s handiwork. As they stare at the globe a blood colored map of Storybrook rises to the surface with a glowing spot right at the town line where Emma buried the dagger. He meets Emma’s eyes and sees that she’s made the same connection.

“Did you tell Neal where you buried it?” Killian tries to keep his words soft, but he notices Gold’s sharp glare when he speaks.

“Not exactly,” she replies, looking stricken. “But I did give him a general idea. Do you really think that’s what she’s after?”

“I’m not sure, but it’s a possibility we can’t ignore.” His eyes dart to Gold, and he sees the exact moment when Gold’s realization sets in.

“The dagger,” Gold hisses. “She’s using my son to find the dagger. Do you have any idea what she’d be capable of if she had me in her power?”

“Yes, we do.” Killian has a harsh edge to his voice, but he doesn’t care. Henry and Bae are in danger. That’s all that matters.

“We need to get there fast,” says Emma. “How many people can you carry with your puff-of-smoke teleporting thing?”

Smart thinking. She’s always been quick in a tough spot – he only wishes the tough spots would stop coming at them so regularly.

“I can take two of you,” Gold replies. “Any more and we’ll have to do it in several hops.”

Killian blinks in surprise when Cora rises. “I can bring the others.”

Killian isn’t the only one shocked. Everyone turns to stare at her. Cora shakes her head. “My grandson is in danger. You honestly expect me to stand back and let you nincompoops try to deal with this on your own?”

“Fine,” snaps Emma. “You can bring Regina and Mary Margaret. Killian and I will go with Gold.” She turns to Gold. “And you need to get that cuff of off her. We might need her in a fight.”

Gold nods with a grimace, and with a short burst of magical light he pulls the cuff from Regina’s wrist, drops it on the nearest table, and steps over to Emma and Killian. “Shall we?”

Killian nods in agreement. At the moment, trusting Gold over Cora is definitely choosing the lesser of two evils, but it’s worth it to save Henry and Bae.

He and Emma grasp Gold’s shoulders, and Killian feels a lurch in his gut as smoke envelops him. A moment later the smoke clears and he finds that they are standing at the town line.

The sight just across the line almost makes his heart stop. Tamara stands gripping Henry with one hand, and pointing a pistol at Neal with the other hand.

This isn’t going to end well.

Tbc


	26. Chapter 26

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're heading into the final few chapters, and I want say how grateful I am for all the readers who've stuck with this story and offered encouragement over the many months of its creation. Love you!

“No!” Emma shouts as she sees the scene in front of her. 

Tamara stands with her arm wrapped around Henry’s chest and holds a pistol pointed at Neal, who stands a few feet away from her. Tamara grimaces as she glances at the new arrivals. “Stay back! I will kill him if you come anywhere near me.”

Emma hears a desperate edge in Tamara’s voice, and she knows in her gut that the threat isn’t idle.

“Like hell you will,” Gold growls, glaring at Tamara. “I knew you were a liar the instant I met you.” He turns his eyes to Neal. “I’ll get you out of this.”

Emma’s heart is still pounding in fear when Killian edges forward, his hand in front of his chest, palm turned toward Tamara, to indicate he is unarmed. “Please, Tamara. No one needs to get hurt today. Tell us what you want, and we’ll work this out.”

“Please,” Emma adds, taking a small step toward the town line, holding up her own empty hands.

Tamara grimaces, her eyes darting toward Gold, her gun-hand trembling slightly, but her grip on Henry still tight. His face is pale, his eyes wide. “I’m here on a mission,” Tamara says. “I need the Dark One’s dagger to complete it. If you help me, I promise I won’t hurt Neal or Henry.”

“Don’t do it,” Gold hisses.

Killian meets her eyes, looking as uncertain and terrified as she feels. She can’t let Tamara hurt her family, but giving her Gold’s dagger is out of the question. What the hell is she supposed to do?

Another puff of smoke appears, and Tamara jerks the gun slightly, tightening her grip on Henry.

Regina takes in the scene quickly, anger flaring in her eyes. “Let go of my son.”

“Stay back!” Tamara barks as Regina advances toward the town line. “You have no power on this side of the line. Come one step closer and Henry gets hurt!”

Emma grabs Regina’s arm and holds the woman back. Cora and Mary Margaret step up behind them. Mary Margaret looks terrified, but Cora’s expression is unreadable. “We have to play along. We do whatever it takes to keep Henry safe,” Emma says in a low voice to Regina.

Regina’s lips squeeze together but her eyes remain fixed on Tamara.

Neal’s voice breaks the stand-off. “Why, Tamara? Why are you doing this? We can just leave – we never have to come back here, I promise.”

Tamara shakes her head. “This has nothing to do with you bringing me here. I have my orders, and I intend to complete my mission.”

Neal’s face is anguished. “What mission?”

Tamara steadies her aim before answering, her eyes riveted on Neal. As she speaks, Emma nods slightly at Regina. She understands. Together they slowly edge closer to the line.

Tamara’s voice is full of self-righteous anger as she speaks. “There are those of us in this world who’ve known about the existence of magic for a long time. It doesn’t belong here. It’s unholy. We’re here to cleanse this land of it.”

Neal gapes. “What? You knew?”

“Yes – just like I knew you were the son of Rumplestiltskin. Meeting you wasn’t the coincidence you think it was, Neal.”

Anger rises inside of Emma at how easily Tamara played Neal. She’d been playing him from the very start. She inches even closer to the line and begins to lower her arms, readying to reach for her weapon if she has to.

“You were only ever using me?” Neal’s pain is obvious, but Emma has no time to care. Henry is what matters right now.

Tamara continues. “I had to keep magic out of this world, Neal. It doesn’t belong here. You better than anyone should understand that. It’s a poison. And once I have that dagger, the Home Office will have the power it needs to eradicate magic from this world. You’re a good man. I’m sorry it had to go down this way.”

Regina takes another step toward the line, but moves too fast. Tamara’s eyes whip in their direction, and so does her gun. “Magic may not cross this line, but a bullet will,” she says. “Emma – toss your gun into the woods. Then cross the line. You know where the dagger is, and you’re going to give it to me.”

Unexpectedly, Cora steps forward, her face grim. “No. She won’t. And don’t think anyone is coming to back you up. You see we have my daughter back – doesn’t that make you wonder what happened to your little henchman?”

Tamara’s hard expression falters. “Greg. What have you done to him? Wasn’t killing his father enough?” She shouts the last words at Regina, her eyes livid.

“You’re pathetic,” Regina replies, just as Cora laughs.

“No—” Emma tries to stop Cora before she speaks again, reaching out toward her, but the woman is oblivious.

“Greg? Was that his name? I never asked before I pulled his heart out and crushed it to dust.” Cora smirks.

Tamara’s expression shatters. “No!” The crack of gunfire explodes in the air, and Emma watches Cora tumble backward, clutching her stomach, even as Neal leaps toward Tamara, knocking both her and Henry to the ground.

Henry screams, and Emma’s instinct kicks in. She dashes forward. Tamara lies half on top of Henry, and Neal straddles them both, struggling with both hands to point her gun away from anyone. Another shot goes off, this one aimed at the sky. Before Tamara can shoot again, Neal finally flips Tamara, pinning the gun hand to the ground. As Henry scrambles free, Emma darts toward Tamara and stomps her boot down on the gun, crushing Tamara’s thumb. Neal manages to pull the gun free.

Emma turns back to Henry, who is still crawling away on the ground. She runs to him and sinks to her knees to pull him into an embrace. He’s crying, and clings to her, burying his face in her chest. “Are you okay? Did she hurt you?”

He sucks in a shaking breath. “I’m okay. You saved me.”

Thank God. Maybe someone’s watching out for them, after all. She squeezes him tight, cradling his head with her hand. “I will always save you. That’s what I do, remember?”

Henry nods in silence, squeezing her back, and for a just a moment, everything is alright.

~ ~ ~

Killian breaths for the first time in nearly a minute when he sees Emma pull Henry into her arms. So much has happened in the span of a few seconds that he hardly knows where to look.

Regina is kneeling over Cora, performing a spell to heal her wound, with Mary Margaret looking on. Gold’s fists are clenched at his side as he stares at Tamara, who is struggling to sit up as Neal stands over her, pointing the gun at her.

“We should take her back to the jail,” Killian says to Neal. “She needs to face justice for what she did to you and Henry and Regina.”

Neal swallows hard and nods. “Okay. Stand up. We’re going back across that line.”

To his side, Killian hears Cora protesting that she’s fine, and across the line Emma continues to comfort Henry while Tamara struggles to her feet, glaring at Neal. “I know you hate magic as much as I do. And you have no love for your father. You should be helping me – not fighting me.”

“And you shouldn’t have lied your way into my heart. This isn’t how it works, Tamara. Let’s go.” He gestures with his head toward the town line.

“You won’t share Greg’s fate,” Killian adds. “We’ll make sure of it.” Cora needs to be stopped, somehow. Tamara’s actions were despicable, but Cora’s were worse.

She shakes her head as she steps toward the line. Tears glisten in her eyes. “You really side with that murderous bitch?” she says, glancing at Regina. “I thought a priest would know better.”

“I know that my judgment will never compare to God’s judgment . He’ll decide Regina’s fate when the time comes. Not I.”

Tamara stops just before crossing the town line. Neal steps up behind her, still holding the gun, but he’s lowered it slightly.

Killian sees Tamara’s muscles tense, and then her hand darts beneath her jacket to the small of her back.

“Stop!” he calls, knowing in his gut that everything is about to go wrong.

In a flash she turns, lunging with a knife she’d been concealing.

Killian feels as if time has slowed to a crawl as he watches Neal raising the gun, but Tamara’s knife is already plunging for Neal’s chest.

Two things happen as the exact same time, and once again Killian can’t breathe.

A gunshot sounds, and Gold’s body slams into Tamara, knocking her weapon aside so that it merely grazes Neal’s upper arm.

Killian remains perfectly still as Tamara and Gold fall to the ground in unison.

For a moment the world stands still – no one moving, and no sound but the ringing in his ears from the gunfire.

And then the gun clatters to ground, waking the world from its trance. Killian watches as Neal falls to his knees beside the prone figures. Gold rolls away from Tamara, blinking, with a dazed look on his face.

He’s on the other side of the line. He doesn’t have his magic shawl, and he’s on the other side of the line. Killian’s mouth hangs open, but he can think of nothing to say.

For centuries he dreamed of nothing but revenge against this man. He stayed alive only because of the hatred burning in his heart. He was convinced that Rumplestiltskin was evil, and would only ever be evil. Yet now that same being has sacrificed all that he is – his very identity – to save his son.

Killian feels as if his whole world has been upended. Would a being of pure evil ever sacrifice himself to save his son? God alone knows the truth.

Killian shakes his head to bring himself out of his reverie. He looks back to Neal. Tears run down his face as he crouches over Tamara. Blood covers her lower chest, and her eyes look glassy. Neal’s shot was true.

There’s nothing Killian can do but watch. He knows that pain, and he knows how hard it will be for Neal to heal.

~ ~ ~

Emma rises to her feet, pulling Henry up with her, and stares at the bewildering scene in front of her.

Gold still sits on the ground, rubbing his head and looking dazed.

Neal is crying. She’s never seen Neal cry.

She glances over and sees Regina approaching. She gives Henry a nudge. “Go. Let your mom know you’re okay.”

Henry nods and strides over into Regina’s embrace.

For a moment, Emma meets Killian’s eyes. He looks just as shaken and overwhelmed as she feels. She swallows hard and walks over to Neal.

He’s leaning close to Tamara’s face, whispering something. She blinks slowly, and then whispers something back, too low for Emma to hear. Then she closes her eyes and emits a rasping gurgle of a breath before her head slumps to the side and her whole body relaxes.

Already knowing what she’s going to feel, Emma crouches and puts her fingers on Tamara’s neck, looking for a pulse. There’s nothing. She’s not breathing. It’s over.

Two deaths in one short, terrible hour.

Emma feels her hand shaking as she pulls it away. “I’m so sorry, Neal,” she murmurs.

He nods, his cheeks still wet with tears. “Me too.”

Emma takes a deep breath. “Help me get her into the car.” She gestures at Tamara’s SUV. “We need to get her to the hospital. They can – we can – we can lay her to rest.”

“Okay,” he whispers.

The quiet moment is broken by Gold’s agitated voice. “What the bloody hell is going on here? Is this a murder scene? Sheriff – you have some explaining to do.” He lurched to his feet, his eyes darting in all directions before locking in on Regina. “What in God’s name is going on here, Mayor Mills?”

Emma’s breath catches in her throat. Before now the consequences of Gold’s actions hadn’t occurred to her.

Regina takes it in stride. “I’m sorry, Mr. Gold. That woman,” she gestures at Tamara, “was trying to kidnap you along with my son. In the struggle to apprehend her, you fell and hit your head. We need to get you to the hospital – your memory is clearly impaired.”

Gold blinks down at Tamara. “Kidnap me? And who is this man? Was he working with her?”

“No. He’s an innocent witness,” says Emma, a lump rising in her throat at the stricken look on Neal’s face. “You should go with Mayor Mills. I need to finish examining this crime scene.”

Gold looks back at Regina, and narrows his eyes, looking at the odd group gathered on the other side of the line. “Did you all walk here? There’s more going on than you’re all saying.”

“Please, Mr. Gold, I will explain everything at the hospital,” says Regina.

Tentatively, Gold steps toward her, crossing the line.

Regina waves her hand and he instantly slumps, unconscious, but suspended in the air by a spell. Regina shakes her head. “There’s no way he’d let us get him to the hospital otherwise.”

“I understand,” replies Emma, but Cora’s expression catches her eye. The woman looks distraught.

“What’s going on?” Cora says. “Has he really forgotten _everything_ other than this pitiful little town?”

“I’m afraid so,” Regina says with a sigh.

“Can we fix it?” Cora asks, an edge of desperation in her voice.

“I have no idea.” Regina takes Henry’s hand. “Come on. Let’s get him to the hospital.”

Emma nods at Henry when he looks her way. “Go on ahead. Your dad and I will catch up.”

Though Cora still looks heartbroken, she, Regina, Henry, and Gold all vanish in a puff of smoke.

Emma turns back to Neal. “We need to move her now.”

Neal nods. Together they lift Tamara’s body into the back of the SUV, where they curl her into a semi-fetal position. Emma is amazed at how heavy and how light the body feels at the same time.

She saw plenty of death and destruction in the Enchanted Forest, but that all felt more like a nightmare than real life. But nothing gets more real than this. She wipes the blood off her hands onto her jeans, and bites her bottom lip before turning to Neal. “You had no choice. She was trying to kill you.”

He shakes his head. “I don’t know. I feel like I don’t know anything anymore.”

Emma reaches out and rests a hand on his shoulder. “Know that I’m here for you. We all are. We’ll get through this together.”

“Okay,” he whispers.

Emma can feel his pain almost as if it were her own. This is a wound that’s going to take a long time to heal.

~ ~ ~

Killian stands beside Mary Margaret, waiting and watching the grim work of loading Tamara’s body into the SUV.

He’s always gotten along with Mary Margaret, but they’ve never been close. However, he needs to speak – he has so much to confess, and no one else to confess to. “Did David or Emma ever tell you about my history with Neal’s mother?”

She nods. “David told me a little. Emma…” She pauses, clearly troubled. “Emma doesn’t share very much with me, anymore.”

He understands Emma’s reticence. Mary Margaret isn’t the same woman she was before Emma broke the curse. Adapting to that kind of change can’t be easy, especially after feeling so much resentment over her abandonment for so many years. But that will be a topic for another day. “I had a chance to take Baelfire in, as a foster son, when he first arrived in Neverland. I wanted to. He was the family I’d always wanted. But I was too much of a coward to tell him about my life with his mother, and when he found out the truth on his own, he hated me for it.” He swallows a lump in his throat. “We fought, and I turned him over to the Lost Boys. I only ever wanted happiness and a peaceful life for him. Up until today, giving him up was the greatest regret of my life.”

Mary Margaret eyes him curiously. “I didn’t know. David didn’t give me that many details. But – has your biggest regret changed?”

Killian sighs and nods. “Aye. I never found it in myself to forgive Gold. I never even thought of him as human – only as a demon. And yet, he did the one thing that I failed to do that day in Neverland. He never gave up on Bae. He fought to find him, and to make things right with him, for his entire life. And today he sacrificed everything he was for the sake of his son.” Killian shakes his head. He still struggles to wrap his mind around it, but Killian knows in his heart that Rumplestiltskin is so much more than he ever gave him credit for. “I should have forgiven him.”

Mary Margaret grips his arm and holds his gaze. “Forgiveness is never easy. There are times when I see Regina and all I want is to scream at her, or fight her, or lock her up and throw away the key. She took so much from me. But having David and Emma and Henry in my life helps remind me that I survived it. She never beat me. In the end, I won and she lost. And experience allows me to see how sad and lonely she really is, just like I was for a long time. I don’t think it’s truly forgiveness, yet. But it’s empathy, and that’s a start. That’s what you’re feeling right now, too.”

“Very true.” She’s a deeply insightful woman, at times. And so full of hope. They could all stand to learn the lesson of hope from her.

She smiles. “So we’ll keep on working on forgiveness together. Maybe one of these days we’ll finally get it right.”

Her words have lifted him a little, and he smiles back. “I would like that. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

They hear the SUV starting, and step aside to let it pass the town line. Emma pauses to let them climb in. It is a somber drive back to the hospital, but even so, thanks to Mary Margaret, Killian feels hopeful that everything will be alright in the end.

~ ~ ~

Emma is relieved to turn the SUV over to the emergency room staff. She’s more than ready to get away from all reminders of the grim events of the day. Killian walks on her left, holding her hand, while Neal shuffles in a daze to her right, his arm linked with Mary Margaret’s. Thank God her mother stepped up to take over the Neal-comforting duty for a few minutes. Emma needs a break. And she needs to see her son.

Fortunately Henry is sitting in the waiting area beside Regina when get there, and he jumps up right away, dashing to first hug her, and then a more lingering hug for Neal. This is what Neal needs right now – a reminder of the son he was protecting when everything went wrong.

“Are you okay, buddy?” Neal asks.

“I’m fine. Really,” replies Henry.

Emma glances to Regina for confirmation, and she nods. “I had a doctor look him over first thing.”

“And Gold?” Killian asks. The concern on his face is evident, and it takes Emma aback. Since when did he care about Gold’s well-being?

Regina shakes her head. “He’s still sleeping. This time in a hospital bed. My mother is sitting with him. I worked out a cover story with the doctors and staff. Tamara tried to kidnap him and Henry, and in an attempt to fight her off, he fell and hit his head. But how we’ll deal with the magic issue is another question.”

Emma nods. Nothing can ever be simple in Storybrooke.

Killian speaks again. “Has anyone called Belle?”

Emma feels a pang of shame that the same thought hadn’t occurred to her, and from Regina’s guilty expression, she hadn’t thought of it, either. Regina shakes her head. “I’m sorry, I didn’t think…”

“I’ll take care of it,” Killian says softly.

Emma admires his relationship with Belle. He’s managed to set aside the animosity for Gold enough to embrace Belle as a friend, and right now Belle’s going to need all the friends she can get.

Before he can reach for his phone, they hear shouting from a nearby room – Gold.

“What the bloody hell are you doing? Who are you? What the hell am I doing in a hospital?” His words ring through the wall.

Two nurses rush toward the room, and when they open the door, Cora stumbles out, her cheeks wet with tears.

Regina strides toward her. “Mother? What happened?”

“I… Rumple and I were very close, once. And I thought… I kissed him. But it didn’t work.” The woman looks heartbroken, but Emma has a hard time mustering any sympathy.

Regina pulls Cora into an embrace and Mary Margaret steps toward them. “True Love’s Kiss doesn’t work that way,” she says softly. “When I took a potion to banish my memories of Charming, he tried the same thing. It didn’t work. It was his words and actions that pushed past the barrier of the spell to restore my memories. Don’t blame yourself.”

Emma bites back a snarky comment. Cora should have known better than to try a True Love’s Kiss on a man she dumped decades ago. But it’s in her mother’s nature to try to take care of everyone around her, and now is not the time for Emma to be taking out her anger on Cora. There are more important things to think about.

But apparently not for Neal. “Of course she should blame herself!” He strides toward Cora, puffing up his chest. “If she hadn’t taunted Tamara we could have solved everything without Tamara dying or my father losing his memory. Everything that went wrong back there is her fault.”

“I didn’t expect him to…” Cora bites off her words as fresh tears roll down her cheeks, and Regina holds her tighter.

“Back off, before I turn you into a frog,” Regina growls back. “That fiancée of yours was responsible for everything that happened. You were an idiot to fall for her ruse in the first place. You never should have brought her here.”

Neal’s face turns red and he clenches his fists at his sides. Time to step in.

Emma pushes forward, putting herself between Neal and Regina. “Hey – tone it down, especially in front of Henry. There are a lot of things to deal with today, and yelling at each other won’t help any of it. Okay?”

Regina continues to glare at Neal, but nods. Still holding Cora, she looks at Emma. “I’m taking her home. I’ll call later to check in on Henry.”

“Okay.” Emma lets Regina lead Cora away.

Neal stares daggers at them as they walk away, but he wisely stays silent.

Henry looks a little lost and Emma walks over to pull him into a hug. She’s come close to losing him far too often, lately. This better not keep happening. She’s not sure how much more of it she can take.

He looks up at her and murmurs, “Dad is really upset. We should do something.”

Emma takes a deep breath. Yeah. Neal needs to be reined in before he does something foolish. She crouches and squeezes Henry’s shoulders. “Hey – I’m going to send you home with your grandmother, and I’ll talk to your dad. Get him to calm down a little. I’ll bring him by to see you when he’s feeling a little better, okay?”

“Okay,” Henry whispers back, giving her another squeeze. She can’t help but smile. What would it have been like to have this little boy by her side for the past decade? How different would she have turned out? But then she looks over at Killian standing beside Mary Margaret, and she knows how much she would have missed out on. She can never regret this – without giving up Henry, she never would have found this family, or this home.

After Mary Margaret leaves with Henry, Killian steps into a quiet hall to call Belle, leaving Emma alone with Neal, who is pacing like a caged animal. Emma is far from eager to deal with him right now, but someone has to do it. She takes a deep breath and steps up to him, forcing a smile.

“Hey – you can take it easy, now. The worst is over.”

“Is it?” he demands, raising his eyebrows. “I’m not sure it is. Cora is still out there causing mayhem wherever she goes, Henry is traumatized – which is all my fault – my father has completely lost his memory – again, my fault, and on top of it I had to kill the woman I thought I wanted to marry. I just…” His voice catches in his throat.

She knows that feeling. “Come on.” She takes his hand and gently tugs him into a nearby curtained enclosure, pulling the curtain closed behind them. He needs at least a semblance of privacy right now. She turns and meets his gaze. “What you’re going through right now is unimaginable. But you don’t have to do this alone. You have family, now. Henry, and me, and I guess even Belle. She’s going to be hurting, too. I’d bet the two of you could do a lot of good for each other right now. Just know that you don’t have to do this alone.”

Neal sniffs and shakes his head, a grim smile on his face. “You’re pretty amazing, Em. Being here like this, even after everything between us.” He clears his throat. “For the first time I think I finally get how you must have felt when I left you to take the fall for the watches. I don’t know how you can even stand to look at me.”

Though in a small way she’s relieved that he finally understands, this isn’t how it should have happened. No one deserved to go through something like this. “It took a long time, but I’ve forgiven you. I’ve moved on. And someday you’ll get there, too.”

He swallows and nods, then lets out a hollow laugh. “For centuries I wanted nothing more than to never see my dad again. But when the doctor told me that Dad said he didn’t have any friends or family to come get him, I felt my heart breaking. I still love him, even after all that pain.”

Tears glisten in his eyes, and Emma takes his hand again. “I’m so sorry. I’ll work with Regina and the Blue Fairy, and we’ll do everything we can to fix this. I promise.”

“Thanks.” He laughs again. “You know, ever since New York he’s been pestering me that there’s still something between the two of us. At first I thought it was just because he didn’t like the idea of me marrying someone that he couldn’t influence. But now… Now I think maybe he realized something that I’ve been trying to deny. That there’s no one else who can make me truly happy but you.”

Emma freezes in shock as she seeks some words to respond, and before she has a chance to move, Neal swoops in and presses his lips to hers.

She jumps back as fast as she can and barely restrains herself from slapping him. “What the hell, Neal? I know you’re hurting, but kissing me is not going to solve your problems.”

~ ~ ~

Killian’s conversation with Belle is every bit as heartbreaking as he thought it would be.

“He really sacrificed himself for Neal?” she repeats.

“Yes. You were right all along, Belle – deep down he was still a good man. I’m sorry I didn’t see it sooner.” His heart is heavy as he answers. His lack of forgiveness is a sin he’ll continue to struggle with. But with God’s help, someday he’ll manage. In the meantime he needs to be there for Belle and Gold in every way he can.

“It’s alright,” Belle replies. “He certainly didn’t make it easy for you. Do you think there’s any hope we’ll ever be able to bring his memories back?” Her voice quavers.

“There’s always hope,” he says without hesitation. If these past months have taught him anything, it’s to never give up on hope. “We won’t stop trying. I promise.”

Belle nearly breaks down when he counsels her to stay away from Gold for the time being. He tells her to pack her things. But in spite of her anguish, she stays strong and agrees that for now, backing out of Gold’s life is the best course of action. He prays that soon he’ll have some better news for her.

After he hangs up he goes in search of Emma and Neal. Neal needs as much help as Belle right now.

As he passes a curtained enclosure he hears words that make him freeze in his tracks. It’s Emma, indignation coloring her voice. “… kissing me is not going to solve your problems.”

“I’m sorry to catch you off guard, Emma, but the past couple of hours have turned my whole life upside down, and now I get it. My dad was right. I still love you. I always have. And I know you still love me, too.”

Neal’s words – so close to the fears that Killian has been fighting to suppress ever since he came into their lives – make Killian’s breath stop.

“Neal! I’m with Killian now. You need to stop.”

Killian lets his breath out, but his tension is still high. He shouldn’t be listening to this, but he can’t help himself.

“It doesn’t matter who you’re with. We belong together. We always have. I’m finally ready to make things right, like I should’ve done ten years ago. I’m ready to fight for this. I love you.”

Killian clenches his jaw and his fist at the insistent possessiveness in Neal’s voice. All his instincts tell him to jump in and defend his place, but he fights them down. Emma’s heart is her own to give – he has no more right than Neal does to make such a choice for her. She needs to make it for herself. Even if her choice ends up hurting him. _God he hopes it won’t hurt._

“There’s nothing here to fight for, Neal. I am with Killian, period. Full stop. Nothing you say will change that.”

Killian’s heart races in his chest.

“Tell me you don’t love me, and I’ll back down. But I know you do. I know it.”

Emma’s voice softens. “What you know is that you’re in the worst pain of your life and you’re desperate for anything to stop it. But trying to win me back isn’t going to do it, Neal.”

“Tell me you don’t love me.” Neal’s voice is more insistent, and Killian scowls.

“I love Killian! Okay? I love him. He’s the man I want to share my life with. You need to deal with that and back the hell down.”

Killian feels dizzy, and it takes him a moment to realize that a grin has spread across his face. For months he’s dared to hope that someday she might feel for him what he feels for her, but hearing that confirmation in such a passionate outburst is more than he ever expected this soon. In spite of all that’s happened today, he feels like he could fly.

He strides away as quietly as he can, his heart still soaring. He doesn’t need to hear anything more. He has everything he needs.

~ ~ ~

Neal looks at her like she slapped him.

Fine. Whatever. He brought this on himself. She hasn’t even told Killian how she feels. Hell – she’s barely admitted it to herself. And this is definitely not the way she’d ever have wanted to get the news out there. But Neal pushed her to it.

Still, she can’t help but feel sorry for him, after all that he’s been through today. He’s not in the most stable of places, or he’d never have forced the issue. She sighs. “Neal – I’m sorry it came to this. And the part of me that remembers being that lonely, wistful teenage girl still loves you. But that’s not who I am, anymore. And the woman I’ve become loves someone else. That’s not going to change.”

Neal looks at the ground and nods morosely.

“Look,” she continues, “we’re going to be connected to each other for the rest of our lives. And I’d much rather be friends than always being at odds. But you need to let go. You don’t really want this – you’re just reeling from everything with Tamara and your dad. I want to be here for you while you deal with this, but I can’t do that if you keep making passes at me. I love Killian. I need you to accept that, or I can’t have any kind of relationship with you.” And she means it. What she’s found with Killian is far too precious to put in jeopardy by keeping a pushy rival around. She doesn’t want to hurt Henry by pushing Neal out of her life, but she’ll do what she has to do. She crosses her arms over her chest and stares him down.

He nods again. “You’re right. I’m being stupid. I’ll back off. I won’t bother you again. I’m sorry.”

“Thank you,” she says softly. “Now let’s get you over to Henry. Spending time with him is what will help you the most, right now.”

Neal agrees, thank God. She only hopes he won’t try this bullshit again later – once was more than enough.

Before heading home she gets a text from Killian. “Helping Belle move. I’ll be a few hours. See you later tonight?”

Emma smiles softly and texts back. “Count on it.”

She has little doubt that this crazy town still has a few disasters to throw at her, but with Killian and her family at her side she knows she can take it.

 

TBC


	27. Chapter 27

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wanted to finish this story before the New Year, but alas, life once more got in the way. But at least I’m sneaking in one more update. I think there will only be 2 more chapters after this *fingers crossed*.

 

When Killian arrives at Gold’s house to help Belle, he finds her sitting on the porch with two suitcases at her side. Tears are still wet on her cheeks.

 

“Is there anything else I can help you get?” he asks softly.

 

She shakes her head. “Everything I own fits in these two suitcases. I never had time to get anything more than clothes. Everything else here is his. I tidied up to make it look like I’d never been here at all. We don’t need to stir up his paranoia more than it already is.” Her voice catches and she looks down at her lap.

 

Killian extends his hand and helps pull her to her feet. He squeezes her hand and speaks the truth that he feels in his heart. “You’re stronger than you know, Belle. As long as you hold onto hope, I know we’ll find a way to bring him back to you. And I’ll be at your side every step of the way. I promise.”

 

Her smile is bittersweet. “Thank you. Right now it’s hard to hold onto much hope, but… you’re right. I can’t give up. Not when he needs me more than ever.”

 

Killian will probably never understand what Belle sees in Gold, but she is his friend, so he’ll stand by her. “He’s lucky to have you. Now, I can drive you to Granny’s, if you like. I’m sure she’ll welcome you back. Or, if you’d rather, I have a guest room that’s open to you.”

 

She looks at him earnestly. “Can I stay with you tonight? If…if you don’t mind? I don’t want to be alone right now.”

 

“It’s no trouble at all. You’re welcome for as long as you need,” he replies. Having Belle as a houseguest will make finding private moments with Emma a little trickier, but he can’t prioritize his sex life over the emotional needs of his friend right now.

 

He drives Belle to his house and gets her settled into the guest room, and then asks if she’d mind him stepping out for an hour to confer with Emma and her parents.

 

“It’s alright,” she replies. “I think I’ll just take a long bath and try to get to sleep early, anyway. I’ll see you at breakfast.”

 

He bids her goodnight and heads over to the Nolan’s loft.

 

When Emma answers the door he can’t help but grin and pull her into an eager kiss. In spite of all the bad that has happened today, knowing that she loves him keeps his heart light. She returns the kiss for a moment, and then pulls back with a shy smile. “Easy, tiger. We’re not alone.”

 

He smiles back. “Sorry. Sometimes I forget myself.”

 

“Don’t worry – I like it. My parents, on the other hand…” She gives him a pointed look.

 

“Yes, of course.” He chuckles and follows her into the loft. David and Mary Margaret sit side by side on the sofa, David looking slightly red-faced. Killian nods hello, and he and Emma sit down on the nearby chairs.

 

“We sent Henry to spend the night with Neal – they need each other right now,” says Emma, settling into her seat. “So I guess now we need to have a conversation about Cora.”

 

Mary Margaret nods with tight lips. “I spent more than a little time around Cora when I was a girl. That woman has always been terrifying, heart or no heart. And after seeing what Gold’s memory loss did to her, I don’t think she’s very stable right now. Something has to be done.”

 

“The only question is: what?” David adds.

 

Killian nods slowly, trying not to dwell on the memories of pain and fear that flash through his mind. He knows better than any of them what Cora is capable of, and if he had a choice, he’d lock her away in a dark hole somewhere and throw away the key. This is yet another example of his need to work on forgiveness, but with the pain so fresh in his mind he’s nowhere near ready, yet. Still, he has to try. “Perhaps there’s some way to remove or inhibit her magical abilities?” he suggests. “Then, at the very least, the damage that she can inflict will be minimized.”

 

“Yes. That’s an excellent suggestion,” says Mary Margaret. “After we got that magic-stopping cuff off of Regina we left it on her coffee table. It’s probably still at her house. Maybe she can alter it to work on Cora?”

 

“But how will we convince her to do it?” Emma asks. “She’s been pretty protective of Cora ever since we put her heart back. Would she really do that?”

 

They all look at each other for a silent moment, pondering the dilemma. Killian takes a deep breath. As much as he wants to avoid any and all contact with Cora, he might have a solution. “Let me talk to Regina, just the two of us. She and I have a similar history. We understand the struggle of having a dark past in a way that none of you do. I think she’ll listen to me. I can make her understand that the only way Cora can truly have her fresh start is if we eliminate her access to magic. We need to cut off the temptation to fall back on her old ways.”

 

“Do you really think Regina will listen to you?” Emma asks, squeezing his hand.

 

“I’ve a better chance than anyone else. And if she won’t, I have a fair bit of experience with thievery. I might be able to pinch the cuff, and you and the Blue Fairy can try to fix it up for use on Cora. But it’s worth trying to convince Regina, first.”

 

“Do you want me to come with you?” Emma asks.

 

As much as he’d appreciate her company, he needs to do this alone. “Regina’s feelings toward you are still too antagonistic. I’ll have better luck on my own.”

 

“Okay,” she agrees, though she doesn’t look happy. “Just promise me you’ll play it safe.”

 

“I promise.” He smiles, and lifts her hand to brush a kiss across her knuckles.

 

They all agree that he’ll go see Regina after breakfast in the morning, and then they decide to turn in for the night.

 

Emma steps out into the stairwell with him and gives him a very thorough kiss goodnight.  “Mmmm,” she hums against his lips. “I wish I could come back with you.”

 

“Maybe tomorrow,” he murmurs back. “Let’s at least give Belle one night to settle in before we start disturbing her sleep.”

 

“Maybe we can buy her some earplugs.” Emma giggles.

 

“Indeed.” He nuzzles her cheek, his heart full. It still amazes him that he’s been given such happiness. It’s a blessing he’ll never take for granted.

 

Words of love hover on the tip of his tongue, but he won’t force them on her until she’s ready. He can be patient. Soon enough, the time will be right.

 

~ ~ ~

Emma wakes up early, her mind swirling with heavy thoughts of everything that’s happened over the past day. Greg and Tamara both dead, Gold’s memories of his Enchanted Forest identity wiped out, and Neal falling to pieces. _Please let things go back to normal, now,_ she thinks as she washes her face. She’s so ready to settle into her new life. Maybe the universe will finally let it happen.

 

Henry slept over with Neal, and she has no intentions of disturbing him so early. He needs all the rest he can get. After what happened yesterday, going back to regular sessions with Dr. Hopper might be in his best interests. Emma would prefer a therapist who got his degree from a university rather than a curse, but for now she has to make do with what Storybrooke had to offer.

 

When she steps out of the bathroom she finds Mary Margaret already up.

 

“Hi.” Mary Margaret smiles brightly at her. “You’re up early.”

 

Emma shrugs. “I have a lot on my mind.”

 

“I understand.” Mary Margaret nods and turns back to the counter where she has a loaf of bread out. “Toast?”

 

“Yeah. Sure.” Emma sinks onto a counter stool.

 

As she turns to pop the bread into the toaster, Mary Margaret casually says, “So I had an interesting talk with Killian, yesterday.”

 

Emma blinks. “Yeah?”

 

“Uh-huh.” Mary Margaret turns back to meet her eyes. “He told me about his history with Neal.”

 

“Oh.” Emma has no real response for that. She’s had a couple of weeks to process it, and it doesn’t bother her any more than any of the other seemingly impossible connections in her life right now. And she’s not really sure if it bother’s Mary Margaret, either. She’s found her roommate increasingly difficult to read since she became “Mother” instead of just “friend.”

 

“It really helped fill in a few of the gaps for me, about who Killian is and why he believes what he believes,” said Mary Margaret. “I think it would be very comforting to believe in a God who could forgive us for all our past sins and give us a chance to start over, clean and new. Maybe there really is a God like that, in this world, and that’s why we were brought here. Because this is the only place where starting over would really be possible.”

 

This religious musing is far from what Emma expected. “I… guess I never thought about it like that.”

 

Mary Margaret shrugs. “Well, I think I’m going to give it a try. It seems like a way to help me forgive old enemies.”

 

“Like Regina,” Emma says. After everything with Henry, and then what Regina and Cora did to Killian, she’s not exactly ready to forgive.

 

“Exactly,” Mary Margaret replies with a smile and a twinkle in her eyes. But an instant later, her expression falls. “Killian also told me that abandoning Neal was one of the biggest regrets in his life. I just want you to know that I feel the same way about giving you up.”

 

Emma’s lips part, but she struggles to find any reply.

 

Her mother’s eyes glisten as she continues. “I mean, I believed with all my heart that sending you away was the right thing to do, both for you and for the kingdom. But that doesn’t mean I don’t regret it.” Her voice quivers, and she squeezes her lips together.

 

Emma feels a swell of love in her heart, and she stands and circles the counter to wrap her mother in a warm hug. “Thank you,” she murmurs. Navigating this shift from “friends” to “mom and daughter” still won’t always go smoothly, but right now it feels a whole lot easier.

 

~ ~ ~

 

Although Regina told him over the phone that it was fine to come by for a private chat at 8 a.m., Killian still feels nervous as he knocks on the door. Somewhere in that house is Cora. The woman who forced him into servitude before the curse, and who tortured and maimed him after arriving in Storybrooke.  The woman who still, in spite of the return of her heart, is dangerous and emotionally unhinged.

 

She needs to be contained as quickly as possible. He only hopes Regina won’t take her mother’s side.

 

Regina invites him in and offers him some tea, which he gratefully accepts. They settle down in her living room, and Regina takes a deep breath before speaking. “I imagine they sent you to talk about what to do about my mother.”

 

Killian clenches his jaw at how easily Regina read the situation. He nods. “Yes. You know things can’t go on like this, Regina. She’s too dangerous.”

 

Regina stares into space for a moment, pain evident on her face. “You’re right.”

 

Killian blinks, taken aback, before pulling himself together enough to reply, “I’m glad you agree.”

 

Regina sighs, her shoulders sinking. “She took out her heart in the first place because she craved power and control more than anything else. She’s still learning how to manage her emotions again. And what happened yesterday, both at the town line and in the hospital, proves that she can’t be trusted to act reasonably with those emotions, yet. She needs time.”

 

Time. The one thing none of them had been given since the curse was broken. They could all use a little time to settle into this new life. Killian nods. “And the best way to give her that time while preventing her from doing anymore damage is to use that magic dampening cuff that Greg and Tamara forced on you. Do you still have it?”

 

“I do. I think I can alter it to work on her. It shouldn’t be too hard to slip it on her while she’s asleep.” Regina looks thoughtful.

 

“You’re really okay with this plan?” Killian prods.

 

“I don’t think we have any other choice. She can’t be trusted with her powers, right now.” Regina sounds determined. Good. Having her as an ally is what they need right now.

 

“Can you do it today?”

 

“Yes.” She nods. “I can.”

 

~ ~ ~

 

Emma is happy for a relatively normal morning in the sheriff’s station with David. They are still working out the logistics of the whole “co-sheriff” thing, but she thinks they’ll settle into it pretty easily. And it will be the perfect way to get to know her father better.

 

They are reviewing the case files from the time of breaking the curse onward when Killian arrives, coffee in hand. Emma rises, her heart fluttering a little, to greet him. She still not used to this feeling—to knowing without a doubt that she loves him and wants to make a life with him.  She wonders if this jittery sensation will ever dim, or if she’ll feel it every time she catches sight of him.

 

She takes her coffee with a smile. “So, how did things go with Regina?”

 

“Better than I expected,” he replies. “She agrees that Cora needs to be controlled until she gets a better handle on her new emotions.”

 

“Huh.” David raises his eyebrows. “Regina’s being reasonable, for once. I guess there’s a first time for everything.”

 

“It seems so.” Killian smiles. “She said she’d get the cuff on Cora before the day is out.”

 

“Perfect,” says Emma, though a stirring in her gut tells her that this is all too easy.

 

They chat for a few more minutes when the bead on her gold bracelet flares red—with the one on David’s wrist glowing to match.

 

David reacts first. “That’s the alert that Cora’s doing magic. This can’t be good. I’ll try dialing Cora—Emma, you call Regina.”

 

Emma scrambles for her phone. Regina picks up quickly. “Cora’s doing magic. What’s going on?” Emma demands.

 

“I don’t know,” Regina replies. “She was sleeping late, and I went upstairs to wake her with a breakfast tray, but her room was empty. I have no idea when she snuck out.”

 

“Damn it,” Emma curses. “We have to find her.”

 

“Let me come with you. I have the cuff ready—I can force it on her if I have to,” Regina says.

 

“Okay. Be there in a few minutes.” She hangs up and turns to the men.

 

“Cora didn’t answer,” says David. No surprise there.

 

“Okay,” says Emma. “We’ll all go together. Regina has the cuff ready. We’ll pick her up and track Cora down before she has time to do any real harm.” At least that’s what she hopes—for all she knows Cora is already out wreaking havoc. They all pile into the squad car and head for Regina’s house.

 

Emma can see the concern on Killian’s face as they drive. Cora has hurt him too much, already. Maybe she should have tried to leave him behind. But she knows he probably would have insisted on coming anyway. She reaches out to rest her hand on his arm. “Hey—we’ll take care of this.”

 

He smiles tightly and nods. “I know.”

 

Regina is waiting outside when they pull up, and she jumps into the car. “I have the cuff ready. Now use those tracking bracelets of yours and let’s find my mother.”

 

They turn up and down a few streets before the very inexact bracelets start leading them in a steady direction. “I’d complain to Gold,” says David, “but he won’t exactly be helpful right now.”

 

After another minute it becomes clear where they are headed. The cemetery.

 

“Regina—what in blazes is your mother doing?” Killian asks, his voice tight as they draw near to the cemetery where Cora is undoubtedly visiting the very crypt where she tortured Killian only a few days ago.

 

Emma grits her teeth. He shouldn’t have to deal with this right now. Damn Cora. If only they’d finished her off back in the Enchanted Forest.

 

Just as they are about to turn into the cemetery parking area, the bracelets flare red again.

 

“She must have teleported,” Regina growls.

 

“We need to get our bearings,” Emma says, and asks David to pull over.

 

She hops out of the car and extends her arm with the bracelet, slowing rotating in a circle. Finally the bead takes on a greenish tinge. “That way,” she calls, pointing, before climbing back into the car.

 

“The only thing in that direction is the woods,” says David.

 

“And the wishing well,” says Killian, his voice low.

 

“That must be where she went,” adds Regina.

 

“But why?” David asks, turning the car onto the road that leads to the well.

 

“I have no idea,” replies Regina.

 

Whatever Cora is doing there, Emma thinks, it can’t possibly be good.

 

David parks the car at the head of the short trail to the well. She draws her gun, though she know it won’t do much good against a prepared Cora. It still makes her feel better—more ready to protect the people she loves.

 

They walk slowly and quietly toward the well, all of them braced for action. But when they step into the small clearing around the well, there is no sign of Cora. Yet the bead is still glowing green. What the hell?

 

Emma realizes her mistake as soon as a strange liquid comes flying toward her and Regina. All her muscles go rigid, and a faint green halo surrounds her. She and Regina are frozen.

 

Killian and David both spin in alarm, but a blast of magic hits them, and they stand frozen, too. That’s when Cora drops the camouflage spell she was using.

 

Emma strains to pull the trigger of her pistol, though she knows it will do no good.

 

Regina glares at her mother. “Squid ink? Really?”

 

“For you two,” Cora replies, looking more melancholy than triumphant. “And a freezing spell for the men. Don’t worry—it will wear off soon. I don’t need much time.”

 

Emma’s heart starts to race. This is bad. This is very, very bad.

 

Regina is just as worried. “What are you doing, Mother?” Her voice wavers with fear.

 

A tear rolls down Cora’s cheek. She holds up a small scroll. “I’m giving you your happy ending.”

 

Regina’s eyes go wide. “No!”

 

“What is that? Regina—what’s happening?” Emma fights against her magical bonds. Whatever the hell is happening, she needs to stop it.

 

Cora shakes her head, more tears welling in her eyes as she walks toward Regina. “I’ve been thinking a lot about your childhood, since you returned my heart. I was a terrible mother to you. I hurt you in unforgivable ways.”

 

“I have forgiven you,” Regina gasps.

 

“No—you’re trying to, and I’m grateful for that. But you haven’t. Not really. And I can’t blame you. I wouldn’t have forgiven me, either.”

 

“Mother—” Regina starts, but Cora cuts her off.

 

“I heard you talking to the captain this morning. I know you don’t trust me. I know you were going to take my magic away.” But Cora doesn’t sound accusatory—she sounds resigned. Regretful.

 

“We were trying to keep the town safe while giving you your second chance.” Regina looks more terrified than Emma has ever seen her. “You don’t need to do this, Mother. Please.”

 

Cora closes the distance between herself and Regina. “Yes. I do. I don’t deserve a second chance. Not after all the people I’ve slaughtered. All the people I’ve betrayed. You don’t trust me, and Rumple doesn’t even remember me, thanks to my impetuousness. There is no second chance for me. It’s too late for me to get a happy ending. But I can still give you yours.”

 

Now tears are welling in Regina’s eyes. “Not like this.”

 

“It’s the only way,” Cora insists. “This time there will be no Savior. No way to break the curse. And Henry won’t have to remember Emma. He’ll love you, and belong to no one but you. You can put your enemies in their place once and for all, instead of being controlled by them. You will finally be at peace.”

 

“No,” Regina whispers.

 

“You’ll see,” says Cora, openly weeping. “Once I’ve finished casting it, you’ll see that I’m right. You won’t mourn me for long. This is your best chance.”

 

Emma has a sinking feeling in her gut. “What is she doing?”

 

“It’s the curse,” says Regina, her voice tight. “The Dark Curse. She’s casting it again.”

 

“The curse that created Storybrooke in the first place?” Emma asks, aghast. That curse had doomed her parents to 28 years of misery, unable to grow or change, unable to remember the people they truly were. Would that happen again? Would it happen to Killian? To her? To _Henry_?

 

“Exactly,” Cora replies, still looking at Regina. “I’ve prepared all the other ingredients in the well. It only needs the final ingredient.” Without warning her hand shoots forward, sinking into Regina’s chest. She pulls out Regina’s heart, glowing red mottled with black in her hand.

 

“Please, Mother. You can’t.”

 

From the corner of her eye Emma can see the looks of horror in Killian’s eyes, though he remains frozen, trapped by Cora’s spell.

 

“You have to stop her, Regina!” Emma cries, straining desperately against the magical bonds that restrain her.

 

With a wave of her hand, Cora tosses a spell at Emma that seals her mouth closed. She tries to scream, but nothing comes out. This can’t be happening. It can’t.

 

Cora meets Regina’s frightened eyes. “I know you’re scared right now, but once the curse is cast, you’ll see I’m right. This is your best chance for true happiness. I owe you so much. This is the least I can do.”

 

Regina’s voice quavers. “How?” She looks down at her heart in her mother’s hand.

 

Cora smiles sadly and reaches into her own chest, removing her own black-mottled heart. “Like this. I’ve enchanted it to become yours within ten seconds of entering your body. You will live on, even as I sacrifice the heart of the one I love the most. And I do love you, darling. More than I can say.”

 

Emma strains with all her might, but still can’t budge. She has to find a way. She has to stop this.

 

Tears stream down Regina’s cheeks. “Once the heart is mine, you’ll die. Please don’t leave me, Mother.”

 

Cora leans forward and places a kiss on her daughter’s cheek. “I’m sorry. It’s the only way to get you your happy ending. I love you, Regina. Never forget that.” Without another word she shoves her heart into Regina’s chest.

Emma strains again. She feels her foot scoot forward a tiny bit. She can do it. She’s almost free…

 

“No!” Regina screams, as Cora strides toward the wishing well, Regina’s heart clutched in her outstretched hand.

 

Emma can feel her arms moving just a touch. She braces herself to raise her gun and fire.

 

Cora takes a last look back at Regina. “I love you. Always.”

 

Emma’s arms begin to move.

 

And Cora squeezes. Regina’s heart turns to ash in her hand, the dust falling into the well below.

 

Emma lurches forward, her arms raising the rest of the way, just as Regina’s groans, her eyes glazing over.

 

Emma stares, her mouth hanging open. But seconds later life returns to Regina’s eyes and she sucks in a huge gasp of air.

 

Cora crumples to the ground.

 

“Mother!” Regina breaks free of her magical bonds and dashes toward her mother.

 

Emma lowers her gun, stunned beyond words, and turns to Killian. He and David are shaking loose of the spell, and Killian strides toward her, wrapping his arms around her. “Thank God you’re alright.”

 

Emma swallows hard and nods, but still can’t believe what she just saw. She turns her gaze toward the well. A purple glow emanates from it, and she sees a swell of purple mist rising from the depths. Killian follows her gaze. “Oh my God.”

 

“She did it. She cast the curse.” Emma’s mind feels blank. She has no idea what to do.

 

Regina crouches sobbing over her mother’s body, and David stands staring at the well, looking just as lost as she feels.

 

The purple mist starts to spill over the rim of the well.

 

“We have to get out of here,” Killian murmurs. Then, louder. “We have to get away before we’re caught up in the curse. We have to warn everyone.”

 

David nods. “Yeah. We’ve got to go. Regina!”

 

Regina continues to cling to Cora’s body.

 

Killian curses and darts toward her, grabbing her arm. “We need to run, damn it! We can’t fix this without you. Henry needs you!”

 

His last words finally get through to Regina, and she nods, pocketing something quickly before rising and following them as they jog to the car.

 

They speed back toward the center of town, and Emma sits frozen, still in shock. A new curse is coming. What the hell do they do, now?

 

TBC


	28. Chapter 28

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We've almost made it! This will be either the second to last or third to last chapter, depending on how long it takes my final twist to play out. Thanks for sticking with me and my irregular updates. Love you all!

 

Everyone in the car sits in quiet shock. Killian can hear all of them breathing – jagged, shaky breathes – as they process what just happened.

As much as Killian wants to take some time to process, as well, there is too much urgent work to be done. They have no time for emotional self-indulgence.

He turns to look into the back seat. “Regina – will evacuating the town be a way to save us?”

She blinks, as if coming out of a trance. Her lips part for a moment of thought before she replies. “No. Everyone would still have their memories erased when they crossed the town line. It would be just as bad as being hit by the curse.”

“Bloody hell,” he murmurs under his breath before speaking up again. “Is there no way to stop it? Or can you alter the curse to allow us to retain our memories?”

Regina swallows and shakes her head. “I could try to change everyone's memories, but the results would be imperfect at best. And everyone would still be prevented from growing and changing over time. But there might be a way to...” She trails off. “I need to give this some thought.”

“Well think quick,” Emma says as they pull onto main street. “We're short on time.”

Killians clenches his teeth and then barks at David, “Call Mary Margaret and Neal. Have everyone gather outside Granny's. I'll call Leroy. He can spread the word faster than anyone else.”

They all busy themselves with hasty calls. Killian can hear Leroy starting to shout the news to others before he hangs up.

They have to find a way to fix this. They can't allow Cora's rash decision to condemn them all to another endless prison. This time, with Henry in the line of fire, he thinks that Regina will be on their side.

Or at least he _hopes._ If she isn't, they're all screwed.

~ ~ ~

Emma stumbles out of the car as soon as she cuts the engine in front of Granny's, where a large group of friends are already gathered. She runs to Henry and pulls him into her arms.

“What's gonna happen, Mom?” he whispers.

“I don't know, kid. But I promise – I will keep you safe, no matter what.” She only hopes it's a promise she can keep.

A dozen panicked voices all start interrogating Regina at once.

After a moment Killian steps forward and roars over the noise, “Quiet! We've got to work together on this while there's still time! Let the woman speak.”

The voices dim and all eyes turn to Regina, including Emma's. Her heart pounds in her chest. If they can't stop this curse, she'll lose everyone all over again – her parents, her friends, _Killian._ Will she lose Henry, too?

They have to find a way to stop it.

Regina takes a breath and nods at Killian brusquely. “Thank you. We're all stuck in a hard place right now. Within an hour the curse will overtake the entire town and revert all of you back to your state before Miss Swan broke the initial curse.”

Emma can see the scowls and glares directed at Regina. She sympathizes, but they have no time for arguments.

Regina continues. “I believe I'll be able to alter your memories and lives to a degree, to preserve as much of your current lives as possible. But you will all still forget your lives from the Enchanted Forest, and you will all still be trapped in a place that never changes or grows or ages. There is only one other choice.”

Emma holds her breath.

“I can destroy the original curse,” Regina holds up a small scroll in her left hand, “and with it Storybrooke and everything we've built here. We will retain our memories, but we will be sent back to the Enchanted Forest as if Storybrooke had never existed. And we'll never be able to come back.”

Emma lets out her breath. She has no fond memories of her time in the Enchanted Forest, and no desire to live the rest of her life there. But if it's the only way to stay with her family, then she's willing to make that sacrifice.

“There's only one problem,” says Regina, her voice thick with emotion as she turns to look at Emma and Henry. “Only those born in the Enchanted Forest will be returned to it. Those born in this realm will be left behind. _Henry_ will be left behind.”

“No!” Henry exclaims, and Emma wraps her arm tighter around his chest, pulling him close.

“That's not an option,” she says. “You have to find another way.” There is no way in hell she's going to abandon Henry to grow up alone, the way she did.

Tears glisten in Regina's eyes. “There is no other way. Either we all face the curse together, with no Savior to break it, or we leave Henry behind.” Before Emma can shout a desperate retort, Regina continues, “But there is a way we can make sure he is safe and happy. You can stay with him.”

Emma's jaw drops. “What?”

Regina nods. “As the Savior, you were immune to the first curse, and you will also be immune when I destroy it. You can stay with Henry, and the two of you can live out your lives together here, in this world. You can be happy.”

Emma's throat starts to close, and tears well in her eyes. She turns her head to look at her parents. And then she turns to Killian.

His eyes also glisten with tears. She knows him well enough to know he won't protest. He'll let her go without argument, all for Henry's sake.

But she can't do the same.

For the first time in her life she has a family. Friends. A lover who is ready to offer her a future together.

She fumbles for words. “I can't. I just found you all. I can't let you go. Please.” She addresses the final word to Regina – her plea for some way out of this impossible situation.

Regina shakes her head slowly. “You have to stay.”

Emma feels dizzy and sick. This can't be happening.

“No!” Henry shouts. “There's another way. I know there is. You can let the curse take you, and then Emma can come and break it again. She's the Savior. That's what she does. We can wait outside the town line and then come back in and she can use true love's kiss to break it.”

Emma meets her parents' gaze, and sees the hope in their eyes. She turns back to Regina. “Will it work?”

Regina shakes her head. “It's not that simple. Breaking the curse would require you, as the Savior, immune to the curse, to come back into the cursed town and share a true love's kiss with someone who is trapped inside the curse. And with Henry's memories affected by the curse – especially with my mother's intent guiding it – there's no way I can guarantee you'd be able to get him to love you enough for it to work.”

Emma shakes her head in frustration.

Henry speaks up again, saying a single name. “Killian!”

Killian blinks in surprise and edges closer to them. “What is it?”

“You can share true love's kiss,” Henry proclaims.

Emma's heart starts to race, and she meets Killian's eyes. They are full of desperate hope.

“You love each other, don't you?” Henry pushes.

Emma's tears well again, and a lump rises in her throat at the certainty on Killian's face.

“More than anything,” he says in a low, intense tone that sends a warm thrill down her spine.

Henry cranes his head to look up at her. “Mom?”

Steeling her spine, Emma nods, and replies, her voice shaking. “Yes. I do love him.”

In spite of the tension brought on by the rapidly approaching curse, she can't look away from Killian – from the gentle smile on his face and the adoration in his eyes.

In spite of everything, she feels herself echoing his smile.

Regina eyes them uncertainly. “It might work. Her feelings were strong enough to allow her to communicate with him across realms. And they nearly broke the first curse together before –”

“They did?” David says, his eyes wide.

“Possibly,” Regina admits. Emma's heart leaps. “But she'll have to come back into town with Killian's memories altered. She'll have to get him to fall in love with her all over again.”

Emma's eyes go wide. “What!? I can't – we can't...” It still amazes her that Killian fell for her in the first place. She's not the type to attract a priest. It'll never work.

Killian reaches out and takes her hand, his gaze steady and resolute. “Yes, we can.”

Regina nods. “I can't make him love you. But I can make sure he is the same man who fell in love with you last time. And I can arrange for you to meet under optimal circumstances.”

Emma feels a huge weight pressing down on her, just like the night when August confronted her in the woods and told her that everyone's happiness depended on her. Not again. Tears roll down her cheeks.

“I can't do this,” she gasps.

Killian steps to face her directly and squeezes her hand. “Yes, you can. You know as well as I do that most of these people prefer their lives in Storybrooke to the ones they had back in the Enchanted Forest. And we present the only chance to save those lives for them. The only chance to keep your family here. This is a risk we have to take, Emma. Not just for them, but for _us._ For _you._ I don't want you to lose your family again. I know we can do this.”

“Emma.” She hears Mary Margaret's voice and turns to see her parents stepping toward her.

“He's right,” Mary Margaret continued. “There is almost no magic that can cross realms, but yours did because of your feelings for Killian.”

David nods in agreement. “I know exactly how much he cares about you, and I've seen the way you look at him when you think we aren't watching. Emma – he's right. Almost no one here wants to give up the lives we have in this world. I know if you take this chance, you have the power inside of you to be our Savior all over again.”

She blinks in astonishment when Neal is the next one to speak up. “Emma,” he says, “they're right. I haven't been here long, but I, uh, I've seen all that you've done here. All that you've built here. And I know that what you have with him is special. It's the real deal.” He pauses, his eyes glistening with rising tears. “All you ever wanted was a family. And a place to call home. You have that now, and you're strong enough to make sure a curse doesn't take it away from you.”

Her throat is tight. All the insecurities of a lifetime come flooding back. If she was so special, why did no one ever want her? Why did Neal leave her? She's not special. She's not someone that people fall in love with. She's not strong – not like they're saying. She shakes her head.

“I want to believe. I do. I just... I'm scared.” _What if I fail? What if they all get trapped forever and it's my fault? I don't want to be alone alone again._

“We're all scared,” Killian says, barely above a whisper, drawing her closer to his side. “But we all believe in you. The power's been inside you all along, remember? And it's still there.”

Emma edges even closer so only he will hear her words. Her heart pounds while she voices her deepest fear of all. “But what if you don't love me, next time? What if I'm not good enough?”

Killian leans into her, pressing his forehead against hers. She wants so much to wrap her arms around him and let him hold her tight until she wakes from this nightmare.

“Emma,” he says softly, “I promise you – no matter what magic muddles my mind, no matter what memories I lose, I know without a single doubt that I will always love you. Always.” A few tears roll down his cheeks as he speaks.

“How do you know?” she asks. How can he be so sure when she feels so lost?

He smiles. “I have faith.”

She can barely take a breath. Love and fear swirl through her mind in equal parts. A few months ago she was ready to take a leap of faith with him, before the chaos of breaking the curse threw everything for a loop.

Maybe it's finally time to take that leap.

“Okay,” she whispers back.

She startles from her emotional reverie when Regina swoops in to scoop one of the tears from her cheek with the edge of the small scroll, and then does the same with one of Killian's tears.

Regina waves a hand over the scroll and it briefly glows a faintly golden light. Regina looks up. “A little insurance, to make sure this plan of yours will work.”

Emma takes a deep breath, and glances back up at Killian. “I guess we're doing this.”

“It seems that we are,” he replies.

Emma turns back to Regina. “I have one condition. When I cross that town line, Henry still comes with me.”

Regina's eyes narrow. “Why?”

Emma doesn't want to antagonize Regina right now, but she still doesn't fully trust the woman. “I need to make sure that you don't change your mind and decide Cora was right after all, and you deserve to keep this twisted curse version of a happy ending. Keeping Henry's memories intact is the only way to ensure that you keep your word.”

“She's right,” Henry adds. “You've done a lot of bad things, Mom. You've said you want to change. Now prove it. Let me go with Emma, and then help her break the curse when she comes back.”

Regina squeezes her lips together and nods. “Very well. Henry goes with you. We don't have much time left. You've got to go.”

Emma grips Killian's hand with her left hand and Henry's with her right. She takes a deep breath, meets Regina's eyes, and nods. “Okay. I'm ready.”

~ ~ ~

Killian wants to stay at Emma's side during every minute of the hasty scramble to collect some clothes and money to send with her and Henry. He wants to delay the inevitable separation for as long as possible.

Of all the ways he'd imagined hearing her confess her feelings to him, this is the last way he ever would have wanted. Still doesn't want. But it is the one they are stuck with.

He's never been so terrified in his life.

But he can't let Emma see his confidence falter. She needs him now, more than ever.

And there is one last thing he can give her – even if it means stepping away from her during these final minutes.

As Emma and Henry gather their things upstairs in the loft, he waits below and pulls Neal aside into a corner for a private conversation. There is no time to beat around the bush. Killian gets right to the point.

“You need to go with them.”

Neal blinks. “What?”

“You heard me,” Killian repeats. “You need to go with them.”

“But...” Neal looks confused. “Why?”

They don't have time for this. “Because you are no more trapped by the curse than Emma is, and because they need you. You have bank accounts, an apartment. You have experience creating false identities. They'll need your help preparing to return to Storybrooke with a convincing story, so all of us accept them as genuine. Besides,” Killian adds, in all sincerity, “you are Henry's father. He's been through a lot these past few days, and so have you. You need each other.”

Neal swallows hard and stares off at the near distance. “I just... after what happened with Tamara... I don't...”

“Hey,” Killian interrupts, gripping Neal's shoulder. “You can't erase your grief and sense of betrayal with a curse. You have to face it, and get through it. Spending more time caring for your son will be the best way to do that.”

Neal takes a deep breath and nods. “You're right. Of course you're right. Okay. I'll go with them.”

Killian's heart aches a little at the thought that he won't be the one to help Emma through this. That he has to rely on another man to step into those shoes. But he'll do whatever it takes to make this easier for her, even if it means trusting Neal.

They turn to head back to the main group to share the news, but Neal grips his arm and holds him back. Killian meets his eyes.

“Hey, I need to apologize. Right after Tamara died I was in a bad place, and I made a move on Emma. I tried to steal her from you. And I'm sorry. That was a fucked up thing to do.”

Killian forces a smile. “A woman isn't an object that can be stolen. I trust Emma to make her choices for herself. But in any case, apology accepted.”

Neal nods, and they head back to the group.

~ ~ ~

Emma is shocked by Killian's declaration that Neal will be going with them, but Henry is so excited by the prospect that she can't say no.

She steps aside with Killian, holding his hand. “You're really okay with this?” Her voice shakes a little. She's not okay with it. Not with any of it. But, like so much of her life, she has no other choice.

“I'm sorry if you feel uncomfortable with him right now. I was thinking of Henry. He needs his father. And Neal's resources outside of Storybrooke might be helpful to you as you prepare to return.

He's right, no matter much she hates to admit it.

Before she can respond, Regina steps toward them. “We have to head to the town line right now if we're going to make it before the curse overtakes us.”

Emma can feel tears rising in her eyes again, but she fights them down. She has to focus on getting out before it's too late. She wants to believe that Regina is on their side this time, but if she's not...

They need to get out before the curse hits, no matter what.

She and her family all pile into a few cars and zoom to the town line as quickly as they can. Killian rides shotgun, clinging to her hand. She knows he's just as terrified as she is – she can see it in his eyes. She's glad he's not talking about it. If he did, she might lose the nerve to leave them all behind.

Just before the town line she stops the bug, the other cars stopping behind her, and everyone gets out. The purple cloud of the curse is visible not far in the distance behind them. They're running out of time.

She rushes to her parents first, and both of them throw their arms around her at the same time.

“We are so, so proud of you,” Mary Margaret says.

David nods, his eyes wet with emotion. “I love you, Emma. We'll see you soon.”

~ ~ ~

While Emma speaks with her parents, Killian strides over to Regina. “I have one last favor to ask, before we all lose our memories.

Regina raises her eyebrows. “What is it?”

This is the only one of the dozens of things that have passed through his mind during the drive that Regina can actually do anything about. And it is the one thing he most needs to do in order to make amends for inability to forgive.

“Can you have Belle and Gold be together – in a relationship? A happy one? I just want them to have a taste of what real happiness together feels like, so that after Emma comes, they might be able to hold onto it. Can you do that for me?”

“Are you sure? Won't that just be rewarding your enemy?” Regina narrows her eyes.

He shakes his head. “It will be giving him his second chance. And it will be giving Belle her second chance as well. Please.”

Regina hesitates a moment, and then nods. “Alright. I'll do as you ask.”

“Thank you.” Killian nods and then strides back toward Emma's car. There's nothing more he can do.

~ ~ ~

Emma rushes through her goodbyes with the few friends who've joined them here, and then turns to Regina.

Regina gives a curt nod. “Well. This is it, then. Get to a hotel nearby and get some rest. Keep your cell phone charged. Tomorrow morning, after I've had a little time to get a feel for the new version of Storybrooke, I'll give you a call and we'll work out the details of your return.”

Emma takes a deep breath, fighting to quell her fear. “Sounds like a plan.” She steps back to let Regina have a moment with Henry, and turns to make her final goodbye.

Killian.

He stands beside her bug with a sad smile on his face.

Her fears and doubts swell and crash within her mind. She's nearly lost him three times already, and each time her feelings for him only deepened. She doesn't know how she'll get through letting him go. She doesn't know how she'll be able to face him and see no glimmer of recognition in his eyes – to face him as a stranger.

The tears she's been fighting for so long refuse to be held back any longer. She opens her mouth to speak, but her mind is blank. There's nothing adequate to the situation. Nothing to express the turmoil of emotions within her.

She shakes her head helplessly.

Killian steps forward and pulls her into his arms. He rests his head in the crook of her shoulder, nestling his face into her hair. She squeezes him tighter than she's ever held anyone before, and he squeezes back. She can hardly breath, but she doesn't care.

She doesn't want to let go.

She doesn't want this to be their last goodbye.

“It's time,” says Regina's voice, interrupting their moment.

Killian eases out of her arms, and Emma has no choice but to step back as well.

Neal and Henry are climbing into the bug, and the purple cloud grows closer by the second.

Still, she clings to Killian's hand. She can't seem to let go.

“This isn't the end, Emma,” Regina says softly, her voice kinder than it has ever been.

Emma nods, though she's not sure she believes it.

She faces Killian one more time, and meets his gaze. If this is their last moment together, there's something she needs to say. She stifles a sob. “I love you.”

His tears well from his eyes. “I love you, too.”

There's nothing more she can say – nothing more _to_ say.

Stretching onto her tiptoes, she leans into him and presses her lips against his. The kiss is soft and tender and over far too soon.

He pulls back and gently guides her to her car door. “You have to hurry,” he murmurs.

She nods, and climbs into her car, shuts the door, grips the wheel, and turns the key.

She can't look back. If she looks back, they won't make it.

She starts to drive.

Just after crossing the line she permits herself a single glance at the rear view mirror. The cloud of purple magic swirls and swells, obscuring every she's come to love. And then, in an instant, it is gone. All that remains is an empty stretch of road.

Emma slams on the breaks and pulls the bug to a stop, turning it off right there in the center of the road. She stumbles out of her door and turns to stare back.

All is exactly as it was when she first arrived. Nothing but an empty road and a simple sign. Welcome to Storybrooke.

Tears pour down her face as she feels her heart breaking. She sinks to her knees and sobs. After a moment Henry crouches beside her and throws his arms around her. She clings to him, cradling him close.

“It's okay, Mom. You're the Savior. You can save them all. I know it.”

Eventually she manages to stop crying and nods. “Okay, kid. Let's find a place to settle down for a day or two.”

They find a town just under an hour to the south. There's a diner and a few fast food places and a handful of motels. They find the best one, and book adjoining rooms – one for her and Henry, and the second for Neal.

They don't talk much for the rest of the day. Emma's seen too many people suffering from shock and emotional trauma in her life. It never gets any easier – especially when she's suffering as much as they are.

That night she fishes Killian's leather insignia out of the bottom of her duffle bag where she tossed it while packing. Henry sleeps in her bed, and she wraps one arm over him and clutches the insignia with her other hand.

She's never really been a believer in a higher power. Maybe there is, maybe there isn't. It was never something she put much thought into. But tonight she reaches out with her mind and her heart, silently praying for a sign that everything's going to be alright.

Her dreams are a blur. She thinks she hears Killian's voice – his laugh – but she can't tell what he's saying. She catches a glimpse of her parents in wedding clothes, standing under a floral bower near the well in the woods. She sees Belle and Gold striding from Granny's toward his shop, their arms linked. She sees Regina walking through town with a lost expression on her face. And, last of all, she sees Killian in his running clothes, moving at a quick jog down the back roads of Storybrooke in the early morning light.

She wakes with a gasp. The sun is up, but only barely. Henry is still deep asleep, but there is no way she can sleep another minute.

She sits on the edge of the bed and stares down at the insignia in her hand, running her thumb over the embosses name: Jones.

Did her dream mean anything? Was it some sort of sign? That was one of the reasons she had trouble buying into the whole “God” thing. Because this so-called-God never seemed to give any of his followers a straight answer.

She tucks the insignia back into her duffle and heads to the shower.

A little later they get through a quiet breakfast at the diner. Neal talks about putting together a backstory for when she returns to Storybrooke. She knows it's important to make these plans, but her heart isn't in it. Not yet.

She's exhausted and beaten down. She needs a chance to rest.

Just before noon, her cellphone rings. It is Regina.

“Everything worked just as planned – and trust me, Miss Swan, your family and friends are much better off this time around. I made sure of it. So now that that's settled, we have some plans to make. When can you bring my son home?”

~ ~ ~

It's a brisk spring morning, and Killian is feeling refreshed after his run.

He stops by Granny's for a couple of coffees and exchanges his usual lighthearted flirtatious comments with her. He leaves a nice tip for the coffee and gives her a wink on the way out. He's not certain what, but some instinct inside of him tells him that today is going to be a good day.

He heads straight for the sheriff's station for his usual mid-morning chat with his best mate, David.

“There you are!” David says, striding out of his office. “You're a sight for sore eyes.”

“Are you talking to me or the coffee?” Killian grins.

“What do you think?” David replies, grabbing his cup from Killian's hand and taking a swig. He sighs in satisfaction. “I have got to convince Ruby to give up the morning shift at Granny's to come work for me full time.” Ruby already works at the station four evenings a week taking calls, so that David can spend more time with his new bride.

Killian raises an eyebrow. He's heard this line before. “You'd take her away from her Granny at the busiest time of day just because you can't make a decent cup of coffee to save your life?”

David shrugs and grins. “That's why I keeping hanging around with _you._ For the morning coffee.”

Killian smiles and shakes his head, sinking into a chair while David leans back against Ruby's desk. They've been playing this same game for nearly four years, almost since Killian was hired to lead the Storybrooke church. Somehow, it still hadn't gotten old.

They chat about the normal town gossip and happenings for a few minutes when their morning routine is interrupted by an unexpected visitor.

“Madam Mayor,” David says, standing a little straighter as Regina strides into the office.

“Good morning Sheriff, Father Jones,” she says, nodding at them both. “I come bearing good news.”

“Do tell,” says Killian. Regina isn't normally know for sharing “good” news, but today could be the exception – one never knew.

Regina smirks at him before turning her gaze back to David. “Not only have I finally convinced the City Council to approve the funds for that full-time deputy you've been wanting, but I also happen to have the perfect candidate for the job.”

There has to be a catch. There always is, with Regina.

“Tell me more,” says David, folding his arms over his chest and narrowing his eyes.

Regina continuous talking, apparently oblivious to David's obvious suspicion. “Well, the two of you probably aren't aware, but I have a cousin. My only living relative.”

Killian nods, curious. Regina never talks about her past, or her family. This is certainly a first.

She continues. “She and I didn't know each other as children. Her mother – my aunt – got caught up in drug addiction and died young, when my cousin was just a little girl. She grew up in the foster system. In fact, we barely knew each other until we found each other on Facebook five years ago.” Regina's grin seems disingenuous, but most of her smiles do. Killian wonders if the woman even knows how to express a genuine emotion.

“Anyway,” says Regina, “we've gotten to be good friends, since then. She worked as a bail bonds person for a few years before stepping into more reputable work as a junior office for a police department outside of Boston. She's been wanting to relocate to a more rural area for several years now, but couldn't because she shares custody of her son with her ex.”

“She's a single mother, then?” Killian asks. “Storybrooke is a good safe place to bring up a family.”

“It is indeed,” Regina agrees. “And she's very interested in relocating. Her ex just got a job in a town about an hour south of here, and she doesn't want to go through another custody fight. Plus, she loves the Maine coast. She thinks this is the perfect opportunity to finally come here for the small town life she's been craving.”

David is smiling, and Killian can't blame him. He's been begging for the the funds to hire a deputy since he started dating Mary Margaret. And now, as a newly wed thinking of starting a family, he's more eager than ever to lighten his own workload.

“Real police experience and excited to come here? She sounds like the perfect candidate,” says David.

She does indeed. And Killian has no doubt that Regina's ability to find the funds just at the moment when her cousin is in need of a job is no coincidence. Still, why look a gift horse in the mouth?

David's eyes light up with excitement. “I can't wait to meet her!”

“Good,” replies Regina, a smug look on her face. “She's coming to town tomorrow afternoon.”

“So soon?” Killian asks. He expected at least a week. But it's just like Regina to spring something like this on David at the last minute. It makes him more likely to hire her without giving the matter due scrutiny. Killian will have to take it upon himself to help reign in his friend's enthusiasm and to make sure this cousin of Regina's is truly right for the job.

“As I said, she is _very_ eager to relocate,” says Regina.

“What's her name?” David asks.

“Her name is Emma,” Regina replies. “Emma Swan.”

The name rings in Killian's head like a church bell he's heard hundreds of times, yet he can't pinpoint where he might have come across it before. Maybe Regina once mentioned her, and he's simply forgotten.

“We look forward to meeting her,” says David with a decisive nod.

Later, after leaving the sheriff's office for his own office at the church, the name “Emma Swan” continues to ring in his mind, though he has no idea why.

 

Tbc

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If any of you are wondering if I threw in this twist just to get to the end, the answer is no. Though the middle sections changed and evolved quite a bit as I wrote, I had this final plot twist planned almost from the start. I like circular storytelling, and I wanted to try my hand at it. I hope you enjoy how the conclusion of this epic plays out.


	29. Chapter 29

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> These final two chapters are basically a novella-length finale, but I split it in two for easier reading. This is Finale Part 1.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you, thank you, thank you to everyone who stuck with this story during the long hiatus and supported me through it's long evolution. We made it! I couldn't have done it without the ongoing support and encouragement of my readers. I know I suck at responding to comments, but you are all rock stars to me. Today I am posting the penultimate chapter, and tomorrow is the grand finale. Both are really long, and together they tell a sort of story-within-a-story to finish up this epic of mine. Enjoy!

After Killian finishes supervising the afternoon youth group at the church, he drives through town to head home for dinner and some down time before heading back for the evening Bible Study group. He slows to wave as he sees Belle locking up the library for the night. She waves back with a grin on her face. He's so glad the city found the funds to reopen the old library. It'll do the community so much good.

He was hesitant when Belle first told him she'd started dating Mr. Gold. Killian doesn't much care for May-December romances. But when their relationship had flourished and she'd asked him to officiate at their wedding, he'd readily agreed. Gold's temperament has certainly improved since he started seeing Belle. It has occurred to Killian that perhaps the man had simply been lonely for so long he forgot how to be kind to people.

Belle is changing that, slowly but surely.

Killian oversaw their small wedding with only Belle's father, Regina, and three of Belle's friends in attendance. It had been a dramatically different wedding than the lavish outdoor ceremony and reception for the Nolans less than two months earlier, but equally as happy. He is glad to see Belle flourish in her news roles as both wife and town librarian.

On his way to his home he passes by the sheriff's station, and he slows his car when he sees a yellow Volkswagon Beetle parked in the lot. No one in Storybrooke drives that kind of car. It has to be Regina's cousin – Emma Swan.

Ever since Regina shared the news of Swan's coming, Killian has been inexplicably curious about the mayor's cousin with her rough upbringing, unconventional career path, and single motherhood. He expects that she won't be much like her pampered local cousin, in spite of Regina's assertion that the two are good friends.

Unable to help himself, he pulls into the station parking lot. He wants to meet this mysterious newcomer, and this is as good a way as any to secure an introduction.

He strides into the office with a smile on his face. “Good evening, David,” he says, and then stops short at the sight of a woman with long blonde hair, her back turned to him. “I see you have company.”

David sees him and smiles. “Killian! I'm glad you dropped by. Come and meet Storybrooke's potential deputy sheriff, Emma Swan.”

She turns to face him, and he finds himself dumbstruck. She's the most beautiful woman he's ever seen.

Her eyes meet his, and he sees a flurry of emotions cross her face – for a moment she seems almost afraid? Or is it simply anxious? – before her expression settles into polite friendliness.

He clears his throat to regain his power of speech. He hasn't been so struck by the sight of a woman in years, but now is hardly the place to make a fool of himself over a pretty girl. He steps toward her, extending his hand. “Pleased to meet you, Miss Swan. Killian Jones.”

That look flashes in her eyes again – definitely anxiety, but this tight there also seems to be some sort of unspoken sorrow behind them. Perhaps he's just imagining things, having read one two many over dramatic novels.

She takes his hand and they shake. “Good to meet you, Killian. Or is it more appropriate to call you Father?” Her voice quavers just a bit, the sorrow growing even more evident in her eyes. What has happened to this woman to fill her with such pain? He only hopes that her move to Storybrooke will help her find the solace that she clearly needs.

“Killian is fine,” he says, dropping her hand, though his palm continues to tingle with warmth.

David steps up beside her. “Killian is a good friend of mine. He's the priest of the town church.”

“Episcopal – not Catholic,” Killian adds hastily, and immediately chides himself internally. She might not even know that Episcopal priests take no vow of chastity. And why in heaven's name is he even thinking of that? He didn't come here to flirt. He came here to support his friend.

“Oh,” she says softly, “that's good to know.” A small smile curves up the corners of her lips, her eyes lighting up for the first time since he walked in. He doesn't know what inspired her sudden happiness, but he's pleased to see it.

“Yes, Emma was just introducing herself. We've set up a formal interview for tomorrow morning.” Regina speaks up. Killian hadn't even noticed she was there.

“Well, very good news for us all. David here has been desperate for help so he can lavish more attention on his lovely new wife,” Killian says. His tongue feels awkward in his mouth, and he hopes his words don't sound as stilted as they feel.

“Oh, congratulations,” Emma says, her smiling eyes dancing between David and Regina. Regina meets her gaze with a smug expression. What is that all about?

“Thank you, but we actually got married close to a year ago.” David's cheeks flush.

“Well, I'd still call you newly-weds if it's less than a year,” Emma replies, all of her earlier sadness wiped away by the warm smile on her face.

“I'll have to introduce you to my wife, Mary Margaret. She's a teacher at the elementary school – she can show you around. Let you know the kind of quality education your son will be getting.” David doesn't seem to recognize that he's getting ahead of himself – he hasn't even offered her the job, yet.

“If I get the job,” Emma interjects, as if reading Killian's mind.

“Of course.” David chuckles.

They chat for a few more minutes, sharing more tidbits about the town with her. Killian finds he can hardly take his eyes off of her. When he was accepted into the priesthood just over four years ago, he'd vowed that he'd wait at least five years before thinking about dating. Priests have to be very particular about their romantic interactions, and he knows that when he finally takes that step, it has to be because he's seeking a partner in marriage – not just a temporary fling.

Emma, however, is making him question his resolve. He hasn't been so taken by someone so quickly since Milah...

When the comparison pops into his mind he quickly drops his eyes and looks away. Milah will always be in his heart, but with the passing of time he can see how many mistakes he made. How foolish he'd been. He was young and impetuous and reckless, and his failure to help Milah face up to her struggles and overcome them had led to her death.

He won't rush into a relationship ever again. He'll be careful. He'll use his head, and make sure every step is taken only after sufficient consideration.

Besides, Emma might not even be interested in him.

After reining in his thoughts, he raises his eyes to find Emma staring at him as intently as he'd been staring at her a few moments ago. When he meets her eyes her smile broadens before she turns to respond to some comment from David that Killian has completely missed.

His heart is racing.

After a few more minutes he excuses himself. He says he needs to get to his duties at the church, though that's only partially true. Mainly he needs some fresh air to clear his head.

He can't let himself tumble headfirst into a desperate infatuation after a mere twenty minute conversation. He's better than that.

Still, when he catches a glimpse of what looks like disappointment in her eyes after he says goodbye, the look sticks with him. He can't get it out of his head for the rest of the night.

~ ~ ~

Emma clenches the steering wheel, her stomach churning, while Regina slides into the passenger seat beside her.

“See?” says Regina. “That wasn't so bad, was it? And you had yourself all wound up into a panic. But it went perfectly. Hook is clearly smitten with you. You should have no trouble whatsoever getting him to love you again.”

Emma only feels sicker. “Yeah. Sure.”

She turns on her car and pulls away from the station.

The blankness in their eyes when they first saw her – like they were complete strangers. She knew this would be hard, but she hadn't realized just how hard. It took all her strength not to turn tail and run when Killian introduced himself and began his awkward flirting.

This wasn't how it went, last time. It was slow and tentative. They were friends first – that's why her feelings blossomed into something more so quickly. Because they already had that solid foundation.

Nothing about this feels solid. None of it feels real.

Even if he develops feelings for her soon, they can't possibly be true. Not when Regina has made everything so – so artificially perfect.

But Emma bites her tongue and keeps her doubts to herself until she's safely closed herself into the guest bathroom in Regina's house, with the shower running to hide the sound of her crying.

~ ~ ~

Killian tries not to think about Emma.

He isn't very successful.

He runs into her at Granny's while picking up his regular morning coffee to share with David, and jokes that soon he'll have to start buying a third cup.

He thinks about her answering smile for the rest of the day.

That evening he is entirely unsurprised when David admits to offering Emma a job right on the spot after her interview. In spite of his previous determination to prevent his friend from rushing into a hasty hire, Killian can't find it in him to protest.

“She told me she needs to think about it for a day or two,” David says ruefully, as they putter in the kitchen of his loft doing the washing up from dinner while Mary Margaret sits at the table polishing up her lesson plans for the next day.

Killian is briefly disappointed before coming to his senses. “That's the right thing for her to do, mate. She's been rushed into this whole business as much as you have, and coming from more populous area, she might be having second thoughts now that she's seen what small town life is really like.”

“I hope not!” Mary Margaret pipes up. “She sounds like an excellent candidate.”

Though Killian silently agrees with her, he doesn't say so out loud.

“Should I invite her to dinner?” Mary Margaret asks. “Or should I wait until she takes the job?”

“You should wait,” Killian says, trying to be the protective friend that he promised himself he would be. “It'll seem like you're trying to bribe her into accepting the job with your excellent cooking.”

“Well, I don't mind, if you think it'll work.” Her eyes twinkle at him.

He finishes wiping down the counter and rolls his eyes at her. “It probably will.”

She laughs, and David puts away the last of the clean dishes and turns to them with a pronouncement, “Okay. We'll do it. But I'm working the next two nights – hence the need for a deputy.”

David always worked Friday and Saturday nights. Storybrooke was a quiet town, but there were still usually a handful of tipsy carousers on the weekend nights.

“Sunday, then,” said Mary Margaret. “And of course you're invited, Killian. Unless you have other plans.”

As a matter of fact, his previous Sunday dinner invitation – from the family of one of his deacons – had just been postponed due to the lady of the house getting a nasty sprained ankle and wanting another week of recuperation before having to entertain. He tries not to think of that as a lucky turn.

He accepts the invitation.

~ ~ ~

Killian doesn't see Emma at all on Friday, and he's glad for the reprieve. His thoughts are trending toward lustiness, and he needs to regain control of himself with some prayer and meditation.

He thinks he's gotten his ridiculous crush out of his system. He can be himself again.

Then, on Saturday, while taking a slightly later run than usual, he stumbles upon her in a city park alongside a boy who must be her son.

At first he tries to jog past as if he didn't notice her, but her eyes lock onto him before he can look away. So he does the polite thing and slows to a stop.

“Miss Swan – it's a pleasure to see you again.”

“Just Emma – please,” she insists, with a hint of the sadness he'd noticed in her showing on her face. “Good to see you, too, Killian. This is my son, Henry. Henry, this is Father Killian Jones. He's in charge of the town church.”

“Good to meet you, young man,” Killian says, extending his hand.

The boy has a pleasant smile, and he quickly accepts Killian's hand and shakes it with a show of mature confidence. “Good to meet you, too, Killian. I like your hand.” The boy stares unabashedly at the prosthetic hook Killian wears in place of his left hand. “Can you grab things with it?”

“Henry!” Emma says, sounding embarrassed. “I'm sorry, really...”

“It's quite alright,” Killian interrupts. “This hand is always a hit with kids. And yes, Henry, I can grab things. Allow me to demonstrate.” He moved his arm just so to open and close the hook pincers several times.

“Cool!” said Henry, beaming.

“Indeed it is. I see you're out exploring Storybrooke. How do you like it so far?” Killian tries to keep his gaze on Henry, but can't help the occasional glance at Emma. This isn't still a crush. Truly. He's merely trying to help them feel welcome.

“It's great,” replies Henry. “I love the woods. And everyone is super nice.”

“I'm glad they're making you feel welcome,” Killian replies, his eyes once more drifting up to Emma. He wishes he knew why she looks so sad, and even more he wonders if moving here might help erase that sadness.

“How did you lose it? Your hand, I mean,” Henry said, returning to subject of the prosthetic.

Emma shook her head. “Really, Henry.” She meets Killian's gaze. “I'm sorry – I swear I didn't raise him to be so nosy. You don't have to answer that.”

He smiles, amused by her embarrassment. “It's no bother, really. I'm not offended, Henry – but I do understand why your mother doesn't want you to be asking these sorts of questions. Some people with differences or disabilities are proud and happy to talk about them, but others might feel bothered or annoyed by these sorts of questions. So lets make a deal – I'll answer your question, and then from now on you'll wait to get to know a person who is different before asking if they mind talking about what makes them different. How does that sound?”

“It's a deal.” Henry nods.

“Well then,” Killian says, “Many years ago I was in the army. I came of age here in America, so it was the United States Army. But one day when I was moving equipment, there was an accident, and my hand got trapped under something very heavy. I very upset at first, but I've gotten so used to it that I never even think about what it was like before.”

Henry nods thoughtfully. “Okay. Thanks.”

“You're welcome.” Killian glances up again to find Emma watching him. He wishes he could make out what she's thinking. “Well – I need to be getting on now. But I hope I see more of you soon.”

“Me too,” Henry replied.

He can still feel Emma's eyes on him as he jogs away.

~ ~ ~

Killian is a few minutes into his sermon on Sunday before he notices them in the congregation, sitting in the very back row – Emma and Henry.

His words falter for just a moment, but he drags his eyes away from them and gets right back on track (though his heart continues to race faster than it has since his first few months of preaching). He doesn't let himself look at them again until the Sermon is over.

They slip out of the church just after the service ends, and he doesn't have a chance to speak to them.

~ ~ ~

Regina is still scowling when Emma gets back from dropping Henry back off at the motel down the coast to spend the rest of the week with Neal.

“I still don't see why he had to leave so soon. He's only been here for a day and a half.”

Emma sighs and sinks onto the sofa. They've had this conversation a dozen times already. “This is his best chance to get to know his father without any magical shenanigans in the way. And Neal really needs the company right now.”

Regina shakes her head. “I still think you're just keeping him away from me as some sort of arbitrary punishment for not stopping this curse.”

Emma rubs her already aching head. She's only been in town for four days and she's already fed up. “You know what, maybe I am. Maybe I have the right to get in a little payback for all the ways you made my life and my parents' lives a living hell. Or maybe I'm just pissed at you for thinking that by setting things up just right to throw Killian at me over and over again you could have your perfect life back within a few days. These are our hearts you're playing with, Regina. Mine and Killian's. This isn't how it happened the first time. You can' t force it, now matter how much you convinced yourself that you can.”

Regina seems taken aback, but Emma doesn't really care right now.

“I don't understand. It's working, isn't? He's clearly smitten with you, isn't he?” She seems genuinely puzzled. Emma's not sure whether Regina's obliviousness is better than her being a willful puppet-master, or not.

“That's exactly the problem,” Emma explains. “You set things up so perfectly for him to fall for me that I have no idea if it's real, or if it's only happening because you built it into the curse without realizing it. And if you did, it won't matter how hard he falls for me – it won't be true. So the curse will never be broken.”

Regina's mouth hangs open for a moment. “I'm sorry. I never thought of it that way.”

“Clearly.” Emma squeezes her lips together and stands up. “I have to go change. I'm having dinner with my parents in an hour.”

Regina still looks troubled as Emma walks upstairs. Good. It's about time she starts facing the reality of the scenario she's created here.

Before changing, Emma picks up the leather insignia from her nightstand and rubs it absently. Regina's put her into an impossible situation. It tears at her heart every time she talks to Killian and all she sees is the fake personality that Regina built into him.

But she's been in impossible situations before, and overcome them. The insignia is a symbol of that.

She has to keep up hope. She has to have faith.

That's what Killian taught her, and she can't let him down.

~ ~ ~

Killian arrives too early for his dinner at the Nolans' loft. He's been on edge for the past few hours, debating whether or not to actually come. In just a few days he's become far too fixated on Emma. It's a distraction from his work.

But he already committed to coming. His friends would be disappointed if he didn't show.

He regrets coming almost immediately when Mary Margaret ushers him in and teases, “Regina tells me you seemed very taken with Emma. Do I feel a spark of romance coming on?”

Killian clenches his jaw. “Regina is mistaken. As I've told you dozens of times, I'm not interested in dating right now. Miss Swan's arrival has done nothing to change that.”

Mary Margaret gives him an arch look. “We'll see.”

He huffs and strides over to David to help set the table. “Your wife is playing matchmaker again.”

David chuckles and shakes his head. “She does it because she cares, you know.”

“I know. That doesn't mean I'm thrilled about it. Why doesn't she try playing matchmaker for someone else? Like Ruby, or Leroy.”

“Leroy? That would not be an easy task.”

“Exactly,” Killian says, arranging the napkins. “It'll keep her far too busy to meddle with _my_ love life anymore.”

They finish setting the table and lounge on the bar stools for a few minutes until there is a knock at the door. Killian hangs back and waits while the hosts open the door and invite Emma inside. She is wearing black slacks that hug the curve of her legs, and a light gray cabled sweater that makes her face glow with warmth. She offers a bouquet of flowers to Mary Margaret who thanks her with a hug.

When she sees him, he smiles and nods. He's gotten so used to playing the third wheel for David and Mary Margaret that it only now hits him how this evening feels with Emma added to the mix – it feels like a double date.

Shit. This is the opposite of what he wanted. He hopes Emma doesn't think this is a set-up.

After David pours wine for Emma and his wife and offers Killian his usual iced tea, Emma smiles and says, “Well, to alleviate any awkward suspense, I think I should start out the night by telling you that yes, I want the job.”

They all share a round of relieved laughter. “That is excellent news,” replies Mary Margaret. “I was afraid I'd have to resort to bribery. David has been so overworked – we can't wait for you to start!”

Emma shrugs. “Yeah, I was pretty sure I wanted to stay when you made the offer, but I needed to give Henry a chance to weigh in. He really likes the town, so this is it.”

“I'm glad he likes it here,” Killian says. “I know how hard it is to be separated from family. Being able to settle so close to his father is great blessing.”

“It is. Close enough, but not too close,” Emma replies.

“Of course.”

With Emma's news out of the way, it's easier to relax into an enjoyable meal. Mary Margaret's roast chicken, potatoes and salad are delicious, and the conversation comes easily, in spite of the too-much-like-a-date atmosphere. They all give Emma tips on house-hunting and Mary Margaret tells her all about the school. Apparently Henry is finishing out the current year in a school near his father, but Emma plans on enrolling him in Storybrooke for the next school year.

“I can't wait,” says Mary Margaret. “He'll be a grade above what I teach by then, but I can help you make sure he ends up with the best teachers each year.” She gives Emma a wink.

From there the conversation flows so well that for a time Killian manages to forget the awkward set up of the evening. Until it's time for Emma to head back to Regina's for the night.

“Killian – you should walk with her. It's not right to send a lady home in the dark by herself,” says Mary Margaret as Emma is pulling on her jacket.

Emma raises her eyebrows. “Oh? I didn't think Storybrooke was known for being dangerous after dark.” Her voice is thick with sarcasm.

“It's not,” says Killian, subtly trying to give Mary Margaret whatever non-verbal signals he can that this line of conversation needs to be shut down immediately.

She doesn't take the hint.

“This is normally a perfectly safe town, but we have to uphold certain standards of old-fashioned charm. Which includes having men chivalrously offer to walk lone women home at night.”

David shrugs. “I think you might be stuck, Killian. Best to resign yourself to your fate now.”

With them teaming up on him he doesn't stand a chance. He sighs. “Well, Emma, it seems you and I are stuck with each other for a few more minutes, if you'll have me?”

She looks more amused than annoyed, much to his relief. “Yeah. Sure.”

They head out into the cool, clear night together. After a minute of awkward silence, Emma says, “Look – there's something I need to get off my chest.”

“Oh?” He's not quite sure what to expect, but what comes out of her mouth next is far from what he ever would have guessed.

She takes a deep breath. “I'm pretty sure that Regina and Mary Margaret have been conspiring together to set us up.”

Killian blinks rapidly and stops in his tracks. “What?” The mayor is the last person he could imagine taking an interest in his love-life. Though, he supposes, on her end at least she probably cares more about Emma's side of the equation.

Emma shakes her head, laughing. “Regina all but admitted it to me this afternoon. I know – silly, isn't it? I mean, we just met. I'm in the middle of moving to a new town. I haven't started my job. I don't have a place to live. The last thing I'm looking for right now is a boyfriend. No offense.”

“None taken,” he assures her, now silently fuming at his friends' meddling. Had David known about this?

She looks apologetic for a moment. “I mean – it's nothing personal.”

“No. No, I understand. You're going through a huge life change, right now. It's hardly the ideal moment to be seeking out a new romance. Ridiculous, really.” He tries to brush it all aside. To act like it's no big deal. He's been trying to quash his inappropriate attraction for days. This is a good thing. Isn't it?

“Good. I'm glad you understand,” she says, smiling. “I'll have a talk with Regina and make sure this doesn't happen again. We can both just... pretend like whole thing never happened.”

“I agree. It's for the best.” It is. Truly. So why does he feel disappointed?

“Perfect.” She nods, and they start walking again. After another moment of silence, she adds. “I do like you, Killian. As a friend. I think you're a very interesting person, and I'd like to get to know you better. If we can just put this awkwardness behind us?”

“Absolutely.” Killian smiled. Yes. This was good. Things would be better, now. “I remember what it was like moving here, not knowing a single soul. It can be lonely, at first. I'm glad to be your friend, Emma. Anything I can do to help your move go easier, I'll be happy to provide.”

Emma's answering smile is the most sincere she's looked all evening. “Good. I might take you up on that.”

Soon enough they reach Regina's front walk, where he bids her goodnight. Yes. Friendship is what she needs right now. Nothing more, nothing less.

Still, it's hard not to think about her smile for the rest of the night.

~ ~ ~

“You did what?” Regina exclaims.

Emma sighs. She expected this reaction. “You heard me. I told him you and my mom were trying to set us up, and I shut it down. Told him I wasn't looking for a relationship – I just want to be friends.”

“But – but – now this could take months!” Regina stands in the middle of the living room, glaring down at Emma, who is slumped on the sofa.

Emma shrugs. She's no happier about it than Regina is. She misses her parents. She misses the real Killian. But having the fake Killian fawning over her was far worse. “This is the only way this is going to work. The first time around, Killian had no expectation of romance. He was my friend, and Henry's friend. It took a few months for that to evolve into something more. I can't leap into a fake relationship with him and expect the curse to break. And Henry won't be living with you until it does. So this is the only way. Deal with it.”

Regina throws her hands in the air. “Fine. Have it your way. Just don't expect me to be happy about it.” She storms out of the room.

“It's not about _you_ , Regina,” Emma murmurs to herself. She grabs a throw pillow and hugs it to her chest. God, she misses him. She misses her family. She misses her life.

But if this is going to be real, taking her time is the only way.

Before she falls asleep, she grabs the insignia and clasps it in her hand, curled up against her heart.

~ ~ ~

Killian dreams of standing in a cemetery. He watches as a Bobcat fills a fresh grave. Snow drifts from the clouds above, dotting his black coat with white. Emma Swan stands beside him.

He doesn't know why they are there or who they are mourning, but he feels that they've both lost an important friend. Is this a premonition of some sort? It feels more like a memory, but that makes no sense. He met Emma less than a week ago.

Yet here they stand, mourning a mutual friend.

Silently they turn and walk toward the parking lot.

_She needs a friend, now._ The thought fills his mind. _She came here alone and lost. I know how that feels. We can get through this together._

Killian wakes with the odd dream still running through his mind, and that final thought echoing – _we can get through this together._

But get through what?

He sets the thought aside and gets up to start his day.

~ ~ ~

Now that his awkward attraction is behind him (well, mostly behind him), Killian is happy to have Emma become a part of his everyday life.

When he picks up coffee for his regular visit to David's office and knows Emma will be on duty as well, he adds a cup for her to his order. Within days he has her coffee preference memorized.

When she finds out that he does food distribution at the church food pantry every Thursday evening, she volunteers to help.

“I had to use food pantries off and on when I was younger,” she says with a shrug. “I think I'd like to pay it forward a little, now that I can.”

He ignores the way his gut tingles at her casual smile, and thanks her for the help. The first Thursday that she pitches in, she makes small-talk with his church administrator, Doris, and they seem to hit it off. She offers words of friendship and encouragement to everyone who stops by for a box of food, and he notices her repeating their names under her breath after they leave.

When he asks her why, she flushes and says, “These are the folks who need the most looking out for, in town. I just want to make sure I know who take care of when I'm out on my rounds.”

His heart swells at the thought. She's given plenty of hints about her rough childhood. For some, that kind of life would have made them hard and jaded. Somehow, hers has given her a bigger, more open heart.

He finds that he's coming to respect her more and more with every passing day (even in spite of the strange dreams that so often feature her, lately).

~ ~ ~

“Are you really sure about this slow and steady approach, Mom?” Henry asks before dipping his french fry in ketchup.

They sit across from each other in Granny's. This is Henry's third weekend visit since her return to Storybrooke. She's still not used to only seeing him for a few days a week, and she relishes every moment they spend together, greedily glad that Regina has no excuse to claim his time in this version of reality.

“I don't like it, but I don't think we have any choice. It has to be real, and taking our time is the only way.” It hurts her heart every time she has to face this truth, but she needs to be strong. Killian and her family are counting on her. She can't let them down.

Henry reaches out to take her hand. “I believe in you, Mom. If you think this is the right way, then I believe you'll make it work.”

“Thanks, kid.” She smiled.

As they are leaving Granny's, they run into Killian. He's happy to see them, and chats animatedly with them both.

“Do you like sailing ships, Henry?” he asks out of the blue.

Henry nods, smiling. “Yeah. I think they're cool.”

“Well, you'll have to see the one my church owns – The Jewel of the Realm. It was donated by a wealthy patron who kept it for pleasure cruises until he got too old to manage it. Right now I have a team of volunteers whipping it into ship-shape, and we're going to use it for youth adventure camps every summer, and run it as a museum to raise money for church programs the rest of the year. Would you like to visit it sometime?” His eyes are shining as he speaks, and Emma's heart skips a beat. He reminds her so much of the way he was right before they first started dating.

“Can I, Mom?” Henry implores.

“We're pretty booked for this weekend,” Emma says, not wanting to rush things. “But maybe next Saturday?”

“That sounds excellent,” Killian replies. “I could meet you at Regina's at three o'clock. We could spend the afternoon on the ship.”

“Sound like a plan,” Emma replies, taking a deep breath. This feels like progress. A real step toward the kind of relationship she is hoping to rebuild.

“Excellent,” he replies. Then his face shifts. “Strangest thing, Henry. I could swear I had a dream the other night about us building model ships together. Isn't that odd?”

Emma's breath catches in her throat. She can barely hear Henry's reply. Her own memories flood her thoughts, taking her back to the day she found Killian and Henry in the church rec room, books about model ships sitting on the table in front of them while they chatted and folded paper airplanes together. That was one of the first times she really considered the possibility of a romance with him.

Her hand twitches. The insignia. That has to be it. She hasn't been having any special dreams, but if Killian has... perhaps the insignia is letting her magic reach out to him in her sleep, jogging his old memories.

She'll have to make a point of holding it every night from now on, not just when she's feeling extra lonely.

After they say goodbye, she walks hand in hand with Henry feeling more hopeful than she has since her arrival.

~ ~ ~

“David would never admit as much, but his filing isn't a system so much as a vague concept,” Killian says, guiding Emma through one of the file drawers. It's David's day off, and when Killian dropped by to confirm their outing on Saturday, she asked for his help.

Her answering laugh triggers the most vivid memory. He could swear they've done this before. It must be from those blasted dreams. They were happening every night, lately.

He's begun to wonder if he should avoid Emma until the dreams go away. She's made it perfectly clear that she isn't looking for anything other than friendship right now, and while he's accepted that on a conscious level, his subconscious clearly hasn't caught on.

He shakes away the strange sense of deja vu and continues walking her through David's bizarre filing arrangement. He manages to relate some stories about Storybrooke's rather comical set of “repeat offenders,” none of whom would make it onto police radar in a bigger city.

He gets through the next hour of conversation without any more moments of discomfort brought on by his uncooperative subconscious. But when they go to put their last stacks of files away before he leaves, their hands brush against each other and he feels a rush of pure energy.

He freezes. Beside him, Emma takes a deep breath. Could it be possible that she feels equally rattled by the accidental touch.

Hesitantly, he raises his eyes to hers, and feels his heart skip a beat.

He's had a woman look at him with love in her eyes, before. He knows exactly what it looks like – exactly how it feels. It feels like _this._

And then she looks away and pushes the cabinet drawer closed and the moment is broken. He's left wondering if it was all in his head.

They've known each other for three weeks – of course it's all in his head. For a moment before leaving he ponders calling off the outing with Emma and Henry on Saturday. He has plenty to do – coming up with a valid excuse will be no trouble. But when she smiles at him, he finds that he can't bring himself to do it.

Instead he heads home more confused than ever. It's become a perpetual state, ever since Emma's arrival. But how to solve this dilemma is something that continues to elude him.

~ ~ ~

Friday night, Killian dreams of Emma again.

They sit side by side on his sofa, and the air smells of cinnamon and chocolate.

She looks tired and stressed, but also perfectly at ease by his side.

“You are important to me, Emma. You and Henry both.” He _feels_ as much as says it. Somehow he knows them, both of them, and cares about them more than he's cared about anyone in a long time.

Emma replies in a voice just above a whisper, her eyes never leaving his. “You're important to me, too.”

And then she leans toward him, and brushes her lips against his.

His mind explodes with light. Images swirl around him – a purple cloud billowing from the old wishing well in the woods – Emma standing in a rusty service elevator, a sword in her hand – Henry hugging him inside David's loft – Emma pulling him into the bathroom at Granny's and kissing him again and again...

He comes awake gasping and sweaty, aching with unwanted arousal.

He sits up and brushes the hair back from his face. These dreams are getting out of hand. If only they weren't so bloody realistic – like memories from another life.

He should have trusted his instincts and canceled the outing with the Swans when he had the chance. He needs some distance from her to get a handle on himself. But they're supposed to meet later that day. It will be rude to cancel now.

He takes a few more deep breaths and gets up to take a cool shower. He'll have to pull away from her, for the sake of both his sanity and her relationship boundaries. But not until after today.

~ ~ ~

Butterflies twitch in Emma's stomach as she waits for Killian to arrive. It's not a date – Henry is coming, after all. But there have been some moments over the last few days when she felt the same kind of electric attraction that she did during the first curse. And she's been sleeping with the insignia every night. That has be accomplishing _something,_ though how much she can't say for certain.

“Calm down, Mom. Everything is going to be okay,” says Henry. He sits on the sofa watching her as she paces.

“Yeah.” She nods. “I hope so.” But she can't help but worry anyway.

Finally, the doorbell rings. She takes a deep breath and forces herself not to answer too quickly.

Killian greets her with a broad smile, and tells Henry he's glad to see him again. During the short drive to the docks, Killian keeps up a stream of advice to Henry regarding all the things a boy his age ought to know about the town for when he moves in full-time. Emma can't help but notice the way he fidgets as he speaks. He may sound confident and friendly, but she knows what Killian looks like when he's anxious, and this is definitely it.

Once they head up the gangplank of the ship he seems to relax. Even in this cursed persona, his ship is enough to make him feel more sure of himself. She smiles, her chest swelling with happiness, as he leads them around, describing all the parts of the ship with boyish enthusiasm.

They fall into a comfortable rhythm for the next hour as they tour the ship. Henry is full of questions – he wants to know everything about everything – and it keeps the conversation flowing well.

Every once in awhile, while Henry is busy playing with some ropes or rigging or one of the other bits of equipment, she turns her head to look at Killian, and finds him already looking at her. Most of the time he looks away quickly, but a couple of times he smiles first. It fills her whole body with a cozy, warm feeling.

This is finally starting to work. Maybe she'll have her real Killian back, soon. She'll have them all back.

~ ~ ~

The visit to the ship hasn't been nearly as awkward as Killian feared it would be. Henry's presence helps, of course, but it's not just that.

He's been so fixated on his overwhelming dreams that he'd forgotten they are nothing more than figments of his over-active subconscious. Spending time with the real Emma is completely different. Well – mostly different.

He can't deny that his attraction to her is still going strong. But he's also coming to enjoy her company as a friend. Which is something he'd like to continue to do if he can simply get these damn dreams to stop messing with his head.

After they've toured the ship from bottom to top, they lounge on the deck. Henry plays with the ship's wheel, and he and Emma lean side by side against one of the side railings and look out over the harbor.

“It's so gorgeous,” she says. “The sea near Boston was nice, too, but much busier. Here the fishing boats go out in the morning and come back at night, but in between there is just quiet and stillness. There's something magical about it.”

“I've often felt the same way, myself. Ever since the ship was donated, I've been so taken by it that Doris teases me by saying I must have been a sailor in another life,” he replies.

Emma studies him with a knowing smile that feels far more familiar than it should, given the extent of their relationship. “It suits you. I wouldn't be surprised if you manage to sail this thing all by yourself by the end of the summer.”

He chuckles at the thought. “I don't think I'm quite ready to tackle that particular challenge. I'd settle for successfully sailing it with a crew of ten. I doubt I could manage with much less.” His heart lifts at the thought of pulling away from the docks with the wind at their backs, pushing deep into the unknown sea. He'd love to have Emma there beside him, her hair blowing in the wind, laughter on her lips...

The sudden desire to kiss her nearly overwhelms him. He's already unconsciously leaning toward her before he realizes what he's doing.

He pulls back and stands up straight, edging away from her. What in heaven's name was he thinking? Henry is right there, a few meters away. Not to mention that Emma has made her lack of interest perfectly clear.

It's the influence of those bloody dreams, again. It has to be. He can't go on like this. It's not fair to Emma.

He thinks he glimpses a look of disappointment on her face just before he looks away from her. But he doubts he's reading her right. He hasn't known her long enough to understand all her expressions.

He coughs, clearing his throat. “I, uh, I'll go check on Henry.” He heads up the stairs to the ship's wheel.

He manages to get through the final half hour of their outing without further embarrassing himself, and walks them to Granny's where they've decided to have an early dinner. Emma invites him to join, but he manages to formulate an excuse about meeting one of his deacons for dinner, later.

He's ashamed of himself even as the lie comes out of his mouth. He's better than this. Isn't he?

Still, he can't help but feel relieved once they part ways.

He returns home and attempts to immerse himself in reviewing the sermon he's prepared for tomorrow, but after less than an hour he knows it's a hopeless cause.

Emma dominates his thoughts, popping back into the forefront of his mind every few minutes no matter what else he is trying to think of.

It's too much. Somehow he's fallen into an unhealthy obsession that will be good for neither him nor Emma. There's only one thing he can do – he needs to stay away from her until he can overcome this. She deserves a true friend, not an obsessive man with ulterior motives.

Until he can face her with an honest and open heart, he can't spend any more time with her. It's the only solution – no matter how much his heart cries out against it.

~ ~ ~

Emma attends Killian's Sunday service with Henry, again. They've made it a habit since this new curse began. She's still not sure if she's ready to believe in the same kind of God that Killian does, but listening to his sermons and the clear conviction behind them – and his conviction in the virtues of service, charity and forgiveness – helps her to appreciate his faith. She's beginning to understand why it means so much to him.

His eyes seem to graze over her a few times during the service, but he doesn't look at her directly. After the service he is quickly caught up in conversation with several parishioners, and never once looks her way.

She squeezes her lips together and tries not to let it bother her.

He seemed very – uncomfortable – when they parted ways yesterday. Things have been going so well. What did she do wrong?

After the service she hands Henry over to Regina for a few hours and goes on a walk to reflect on things.

Telling him she wasn't interested in dating felt like absolutely the right choice when she did it. And that choice made a huge difference for the past three weeks. Instead of looking at her like a lovesick puppy, Killian has become much more the man she knew during the first curse – the man she started falling in love with. But now that they've shared a few moments of romantic tension (She knows he felt it, too. She just _knows_ it.) she wonders if her adamant statement of disinterest is starting to backfire.

Has she sent too many mixed signals? How can she come back from that line she drew without looking manipulative or flaky?

Not for the first time she finds herself seething with anger at Cora for doing this to her. For doing this to all of them.

She stands at the waterfront clenching her fists and feels tears rising in her eyes. This is ridiculous. She can't let herself sink into a spiral of doubt, like this. Killian had faith in her. She just needs to have faith in herself.

~ ~ ~

Killian fills his week with appointments and errands scheduled in the very hours that he normally runs into Emma. He wants genuine excuses so he doesn't feel compelled to lie, again.

He convinces himself that if he avoids her and focuses on more worthy and productive activities, the dreams will soon subside.

But they don't.

The dream on Sunday night is simple enough. He and Emma sitting in his house, talking and laughing. It feels so comfortable and natural. Like this is how his life is meant to be.

The next night the dream is more potent and vivid than any of the others before it.

It starts off with a few flashes of walking down main street with Emma and Henry. Then, without warning, he feels a blinding pain in his left shoulder. His shoulder throbs and his coat is slick with blood, but even now Emma and Henry are all that seem to matter. Emma is in front of him, tears in her eyes.

“The power is in _you._ You are the key, Emma. You can save him,” he says. Henry. Henry is in trouble, and it terrifies him. But Emma can do this. He believes in her more than he's ever believed in anything or anyone.

Her voices shakes when she answers. “Why do you believe in me so much?”

He feels the conviction in his heart when he answers. “I believe in you because you already saved _me.”_

More images flash before his eyes . His brother on board The Jewel of Realm, dying in his arms. A noisy, dark pub surrounded by carousing men and women, while he feels empty and alone in spite of his smile. Again on the ship, a scaly man thrusts his hand into Milah's chest and pulls out her heart, crushing it to dust before Killian can stop him. A sword in his hand, thrusting into one victim after another.

And then he sees Emma, again. This time he sits in a hospital bed, his hand swathed in bandages. In his heart he knows that it is damaged beyond repair. Emma steps forward, her hands outstretched over him. A brilliant white light flows out of her palms to surround his hand, and then his whole body. He feels his hand once more strong and whole, and his other wounds healed. But more than that, the heart that had withered for countless years now feels full of life and hope in his chest.

“You saved me,” he whispers again, as she smiles at him.

Killian wakes abruptly and looks around his room with a racing heart. For a moment his own bedroom feels foreign and artificial in comparison to the dream. But soon he reorients himself and begins to calm his breathing. He has no idea why his subconscious is suddenly spinning these vivid fantasies. But that's all they are. He needs to let them go.

That day he picks up some over the counter sleeping pills. Perhaps those will be enough to banish the dreams.

They aren't.

The next two nights, the dreams are simpler. More images of walking or eating or driving around with Emma beside him. Even so, they feel so real. More real than some of his memories.

Friday evening he finds himself staring at the liquor store. He hasn't taken a drink in eight years. He made a commitment to himself and to his God. But even so, he's tempted. Would a drink or three be enough to dull the dreams?

Why does she haunt him like this? She's just a woman, like any other. Is his mind becoming unbalanced?

_Maybe it's a sign,_ a thought intrudes into his mind. _Maybe a higher power is trying to tell me we're supposed to be together._

He huffs at himself and shakes his head, turning away from the liquor store. God doesn't work like that.

He pulls out his phone and dials Dr. Hopper. He sets an appointment for Saturday afternoon. Maybe the doctor will have some insight into the nature of his obsessive and unceasing dreams. He's already tried prayer and medicine to banish them. Something more is needed.

_Or I could just give in_. _I could go to her. I could tell her I have feelings for her. I could ask her to dinner. Why shouldn't I? The worst she can do is reject me. Perhaps that will be enough to end these dreams._

No. He's a rational man. Emma bears no responsibility for his state of distress, and it would be wrong of him to draw her into it. He'll try the doctor first. The doctor will know a way to get rid of these dreams.

_Do I really want them gone?_

He's not sure he knows the answer to that question, and that thought scares him more than anything else.

~ ~ ~

Emma finishes her usual patrol of the main street area and pulls the patrol car to the side of the road. She should be doing her job, but she can't think. She can't focus.

A pain has been growing in her chest – swelling with every passing day.

She picks up her phone and dials. It rings several times before Neal picks up.

“Emma? Henry's already asleep. Is something wrong?” he asks.

“You don't need to wake Henry,” she says quickly. “I wanted to talk to you, actually.”

“Really? What's up? You sound upset.”

A lump rises in her throat. She hadn't realized it would be so obvious. She barely chokes back a sob when she answers. “Yeah. I... things aren't going so good.”

“What is it?”

She takes a deep breath and closes her eyes as if she can block out the pain. “I screwed up. I don't even know _how_ I screwed up, but I did. Killian's been avoiding me all week. And it's not just a coincidence – we bump into each other all the time on his normal schedule. He had to completely re-arrange his whole schedule just to avoid running into me.” Her voice catches again. “I lost him. I screwed up and now I'll never get them back.”

Tears roll down her cheeks.

Every day this week she woke up telling herself that today she would see him. Today he'd drop by with coffee, again. Today, things would get back on track.

But it's been six days since they last spoke, and five days since they were even within eye-shot of each other.

She came here to get him to fall in love with her again, and instead she's managed to scare him away for good.

Deep down she always knew the whole Savior thing was a load of crap. And now she is being proved right.

“Emma – it can't be that bad,” Neal says.

“It is! You aren't here, you don't know,” she bites back.

“And you don't know why he's avoiding you. I mean, didn't you tell him a few weeks back that you weren't interested in dating?”

“Yes,” she admits. She's been down this train of thought before, and it never leads anywhere productive. “But we were becoming friends. And now he doesn't even seem to want _that_ anymore.”

“Look, Emma, I don't know if this will help any, but if I was really into someone – like _really_ into her – and she told me that she just wanted to be friends, I'd respect that. I'd try. Like he was trying. But maybe it was getting too hard, y'know? Maybe he needs a little space – maybe he doesn't like being too close to the forbidden fruit, because it hurts too much.”

Emma leans back in her seat and shakes her head. “Killian isn't like that. He wouldn't abandon me just because he couldn't be with me romantically. He'd stand by me anyway.”

“ _Your_ Killian wouldn't abandon you. But right now he's not completely your Killian. There's the curse in there messing with his mind, making him into someone he's not. You gotta remember that part.”

“Maybe.” She sighed. “The last couple of weeks he's been so much like the real Killian. Maybe I was expecting too much too fast. I just...” She feels tears rising again. “I miss him. I miss him so much. And I miss being around my friends and parents with them actually remembering me and loving me. And I miss Henry. I don't know how much longer I can keep doing this.”

There it is. The cold, hard truth. She's running out of stamina. Every day hurts more than the one before. She feels like she's pushing herself through a fog of depression every time she wakes up and has to face a town full of people who have no idea who she really is.

Killian's abandonment is almost more than she can bear.

“Emma – if you need a break, I'm always here for you. Me and Henry. You can come spend the weekend with us, if you want.”

For a moment, she's tempted. A whole weekend to relax with Henry, without having to lie or pretend every time she talked to someone.

But the way Neal behaved right before the new curse – the way he tried to convince her to leave Killian and come back to him – is still enough to make her doubt his motives. He's still hurting from everything with Tamara. The time with Henry is helping, but she's worried that he'll try to talk her into giving up on breaking the curse. To give up on magic and fairy tales and to walk away from that life forever.

She wouldn't say yes, but she knows she'd be tempted, and even that leaves her ashamed of herself.

Killian never gave up on her – her parents never gave up on her – not once.

She can't give up on them. Not without a fight.

“No. I can't leave. Not right now.”

“Okay. I get it.” He sounds disappointed, and she's glad she held her ground.

“Look,” he says, “if he really is stepping back because he has feelings for you, the best thing you can do is tell him you have feelings for him, too. Give him a little hope. Maybe that'll get things back on track.”

As scary as his advice sounds, he might be right. “Okay. I'll try. Thanks for listening. I just needed to vent to someone other than Regina. She's getting a little difficult to deal with.”

“I can imagine. I'll always be here for you if you need me, Emma. You know that, right?” Neal says.

If he'd offered that statement when he first arrived in Storybrooke, she'd have rolled her eyes. But now she thinks she believes him. “I do. Thanks.”

After hanging up she cruises around town one last time, and slows the car almost to a standstill as she passes Killian's house. A light is shining in his bedroom. She almost pulls over, before thinking better of it and heading back to the station instead. Pounding on his door in the middle of the night isn't the right way to handle things.

But sometime this weekend, she'll find him, and she'll talk to him, and she'll admit that she was wrong when she said they shouldn't date. She's terrified, but if this is what it takes, she's ready.

It can't possibly be worse than facing a dragon.

 

TBC

 


	30. Chapter 30

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here it is, the grand finale. Thank you so much for reading and sending me your encouragement! I'm so happy I got share this journey with you. Don't forget you can find me on Tumblr as mediumsizedfountain. <3

Emma isn't in Killian's dream, tonight. At least, not directly.

He's in city hall, but the place is in shambles. Regina is there, and David and Henry. Killian feels as if he and David have been shouting at Regina. Somehow, she did something to Mary Margaret and Emma. She hurt them, and all Killian wants to do is hurt Regina in return.

But Henry's voice stops him. “She needs to get Emma and Mary Margaret back. Please, Killian. Promise me you won't kill her.”

The words should shock him – how could Henry even think him capable of such a thing? But at the same time the pain and loss and anger in his heart are so strong – almost tangible. He can feel his struggle to hold back from throwing himself toward Regina in rage.

But Henry's gaze holds him back, and so does David's.

“We have to hold onto hope. We have to have faith,” David says.

Killian feels the anger draining from his heart.

With a swirl of memory, the dream world shifts.

He is standing in front of the stairs in David's loft, and Henry is holding his gaze. “Are you in love with my mom?”

Without hesitation, Killian replies, “Yes. I am.” And he feels it – pulsing and swelling in his heart. How did he not recognize it before? Why was he trying to run from this?

Henry takes his hand and smiles. “Then you'll find her. I know you will. That's how all the stories end – True Love always wins.”

Those words continuing to ring in Killian's mind even after his eyes open to the dawn light wafting through his blinds.

Yesterday he'd dismissed the thought that his dreams could be signs or messages. But now?

Nothing makes sense. At least he'll soon have the chance to talk it out with Dr. Hopper.

When the time comes for his appointment he feels awkward and out of sorts. He's no longer sure he even wants to do this. But he's here, so he'll go through with it.

The doctor greets him warmly and they sit across from each other on comfortable sofas. “So, what is it that you need to talk about, Killian?”

Killian takes a deep breath. Might as well get it over with. “I've been having these dreams...”

Explaining the dreams, and who they are about, is just as uncomfortable as Killian anticipated. But Hopper's questions are gentle, and lead him to open up in ways he hadn't expected. Once he finishes describing them, up to his most recent dream, he looks at Hopper warily. “So...? What do I do, now?”

Hopper nods thoughtfully. “That depends. What do you want to do?”

“I don't know. I just know things can't carry on as they are,” Killian replies.

“Then you have to change something.”

“Exactly.” Killian leans forward. “But how? How do I change things to stop these dreams from pestering me night after night?”

“That is the question, isn't it?” Hopper says.

Killian clenches his jaw. This isn't helping.

“It seems to me,” says Hopper, “that you're quite taken with Miss Swan. You seem to feel a deep emotional connection with her.”

Killian looks away, once again embarrassed. “I suppose I do. That's why I was trying to be friends with her.”

“But you want something more,” Hopper presses.

Killian's cheeks feel warm. “Yes. I – I shouldn't, though. She told me she's not interested. Her life is changing too much right now. She needs to settle into her new life a bit before she's ready to think about dating. I mean, she hasn't even found her own apartment, yet.”

“These were her words?”

“More or less.”

Hopper taps his chin. “Did she say she wasn't interested in dating, or that she wasn't interested in _you?_ ”

Killian fidgets. This is going in an uncomfortable direction. “Just dating. She... she actually said she wanted to get to know me, better. And we were getting on well with each other. But then...”

“Then those dreams started messing with your head,” Hopper finishes.

“Exactly.”

Hopper nods. “Killian – I'm a big believer that when a person sets a boundary on a relationship, you need to respect that boundary. But I also believe that when people get to know each other, their opinions and boundaries might shift more quickly than expected. You mentioned that you and Miss Swan shared a few moments?”

Killian rubs his chin and nods. “Yeah. I felt something, and I could swear she felt something, too. But with these dreams messing about with me, I don't know if it's all in my head, or if it was real.”

“Here's what I think.” Hopper leaned toward him. “I think that your feelings for Miss Swan became very strong very quickly, but you were respecting her boundary, as you should, so you tried to push those feelings aside. I think that these dreams are your brain's way of pushing back. You do feel things. Things that are so intense and so unexpected that you don't want to acknowledge them. And when you repressed them, your subconscious started putting together these elaborate simulations, if you will, to show you that you can't ignore what you're feeling.”

But the dreams felt so real – so potent. Yet there was no other rational explanation besides the one Hopper offered. “So, you think I need to face these feelings and deal with them directly?”

“That's certainly not a bad idea,” Hopper replies. “I know that after a long break from romantic interactions, it can be a very scary thing to put yourself out there again. But you need to trust your instincts. And those instincts were telling you that Miss Swan was connecting with you in the same way you were connecting with her. Now, you can't push your feelings on her. You still need to respect her boundaries. But I think its perfectly fair of you to ask. Ask her if she still just wants to be friends. Ask her if her feelings have changed. If they haven't, you need to back down. And if your dreams still trouble you, I'll be here to talk whenever you want. But if her feelings _have_ changed, I think your brain is telling you that it's ready to take a leap of faith and give this new relationship a try.”

Everything Hopper says feels so right. It is terrifying, but he can't deny that his feelings for Emma are more powerful than anything he's felt for anyone since Milah's death. And, as he thought yesterday, the worst that can happen is she'll reject him. He's survived far worse than that.

All he has to decide is whether or not this chance is worth the risk.

“Thank you, doctor. I think this was exactly what I needed to hear.”

“Glad I could help.”

A few hours later, David calls to invite him to a game night with a few friends tomorrow evening.

“Is Emma going to be there?” Killian asks.

“We're inviting her, yeah. I just haven't called her, yet. Is there something going on, there, Killian? I thought I was picking up on some vibes from the two of you.”

“Too early to say,” Killian replies. “But I admit I am attracted to her. I've been thinking that maybe... maybe it's time to get out there. You know?”

David chuckles. “Well, it's about time. Mary Margaret will be thrilled – she was pestering me to set the two of you up.”

Killian smiles and shakes his head. “Don't tell her anything, yet. I'm still feeling things out. Don't want to get her hopes up.” And he doesn't want Mary Margaret nagging him about this for the next month. Not when he has no idea how Emma feels.

“Sure thing,” David replies with another chuckle.

“But, uh,” Killian hesitates, and then asks, “when you call to invite Emma, could you tell her I'll be there? Maybe mention that I'm... I don't know... looking forward to seeing her? Or something?”

“You really do have a crush, don't you?” David teases.

“Mate...”

“Sure. I'll put in a good word for you. Trust me,” David replies.

“Okay.”

After they hang up, Killian runs his hand through his hair and paces restlessly. Will Emma be more or less likely to come after David mentions him? Only time will tell.

~ ~ ~

Emma is apprehensive when, after David extends the invitation to a game night, he says, “Oh – and Killian wanted you to know he'll be there. He wasn't around much this week, and I think he misses you.” There is a teasing tone in David's voice, and she has no idea what to make of it.

Was Killian warning her off? Or is the sentiment sincere?

She reaches into the pocket where she's been carrying the insignia lately, and rubs her thumb across it for luck. “Sounds great. I'll be there.”

She's on edge for the rest of the day, and has a restless night.

At bedtime she decides to set the insignia aside. If any of Killian's dreams have been troubling him, she needs to minimize that tonight so that he'll be more relaxed tomorrow. Anything to ease the tension between them.

She's in a daze all day on Sunday. Henry is with Neal this weekend – she wasn't ready to foist her worries onto her son, and decided it would be best not to have him visit. Finally, after a hasty microwave dinner, which sits unpleasantly in her gut, she grabs the cookies and popcorn that she bought as contributions to the gathering, and heads to the loft.

She's the last one to arrive.

Mary Margaret has invited two of the other teachers from the elementary school, but Emma's eyes go straight to Killian. He is perched on one of the bar stools, dressed down in jeans and a sweater. Her heart skips a beat when he meets her eyes and offers a nervous smile.

“Good thing Killian could make it,” David jokes as he takes the snacks from Emma, “or I would have been the fifth wheel at a girl's night. Now at least we're outnumbered together, right buddy?” He nudges Killian as he sets the food down on the counter.

“How could I say no to the chance to be overwhelmed by an abundance of charming women?” Killian says, his tone light. His eyes dart briefly to Emma's again before he looks away.

She has to grip the back of a chair to stop her hand from shaking. Maybe Neal was right – maybe Killian took a step back because he was developing feelings for her. _Real_ feelings, not just the crush that Regina built into him.

She'll find a way to talk to him one on one, tonight. She has to.

After grabbing some treats and chatting with Mary Margaret's friends for a few minutes, they sit down for a board game with too many rules that David seems to adore. All through the game she can't stop herself from looking at Killian, and finds him looking back more often than not. Hope swells inside of her as they fall into the same friendly cadence they shared for her first three weeks as deputy.

After the game ends (David, unsurprisingly, wins), David and one of Mary Margaret's friends argue over which game to play next and everyone else heads to the kitchen for more snacks.

Emma ends up standing next to Killian beside the chips and salsa. Her whole body tenses. She glances toward him, and finds him glancing toward her as well.

Time to take a chance.

“You were a little scarce around town this week,” she says. “I was beginning to wonder if you were avoiding me.”

Killian's face falls and he looks down at the counter.

Oh. He _was_ avoiding her. Crap.

“I admit I was seeking solitude a great deal over the past week. There's been something on my mind that I needed to think about.” He speaks softly so as not to be overheard.

“Oh,” she replies, her hope stirring again.

“I – I was hoping I could walk you home, tonight. I'd like the chance to talk to you. About things. Just the two of us.”

Tingles run up and down her arms. It's happening. Just when she'd been about to lose heart.

“That would be great,” she replies, trying to keep her voice steady. “I was hoping for the chance to talk to you, too.”

“You were?” He captures her gaze, his eyes intent and full of questions she can't answer, yet.

“Yeah.”

He gives a slight nod. “Well, then. We'll talk.”

“Yes. We will.”

~ ~ ~

Killian isn't quite certain how he manages to survive two rounds of Clue (a game better suited to ten year olds), but he does.

He feels sick with nerves. Emma wants to talk to him. But why? To tell him, again, that she's not interested? Or, by some miracle, to tell him that she's changed her mind and wants to try something?

Whichever is the case, he's glad he's taking Hopper's advice. After resolving to come to the party and talk to her, he got the best night of sleep he's had in weeks. Not a single dream that he can remember. So it seems his subconscious really was telling him to act on his feelings (though that isn't enough to explain everything about the dreams).

When the time comes, the two of them say goodnight to their hosts and manage to slip out while the teachers are all still happily chatting.

They make their way out to the dark street, and Emma, shoving one hand in her pocket and tapping the other on her thigh, looks just as nervous as he feels.

They slowly head in the direction of Regina's house.

For the first few minutes there is no sound but the crunch of their shoes against the pavement.

He takes a deep breath and musters the courage to speak. “So. That thing I wanted to talk to you about...”

“Yeah?” she sounds nervous and eager at the same time.

“Yeah. I just... part of what I was thinking about so much this week was... it was, uh, you. Us. Our friendship.” There. Not the greatest start, but it's enough to get the conversation rolling.

Emma stops and rocks on her feet. They are on a wooded stretch of road, beneath the spreading canopy of several old elm trees. “I was thinking about, us, too.”

His heart leaps into his throat. He's not sure he can manage to speak. After a cough, he manages, “Oh. Oh.”

For a moment something that looks like genuine fear flashes in her eyes, but then a steel and strength returns to her expression. “I need to say something, and I think I just need to get it out and over with or I won't manage at all,” she says. “So, I guess what I want to say is, when I told you I wasn't looking to date anyone, that was the truth. But something is happening. Something is changing in ways I never expected. ” She hesitates a moment, and he feels as if his heart is going to drop out of his chest. She continues. “When I'm with you, I feel like there's something here. Happening. Between us.” She gestures back and forth. “I guess I want to know if you feel it, too, or if it's just me.”

He feels like he's floating – like this is some sort of out-of-body experience. “It's not just you.” Without conscious thought he takes a step toward her, closing the distance between them to just a few inches. “Emma...” He breathes out her name, searching for the right words to say next.

A nervous smile rises on her face, and he can feel his own expression mirroring hers.

“Okay,” she says, just above a whisper. “That's good to know.”

“Yes, it is,” he replies. “After our outing last Saturday – I felt like I needed to take a step back, to respect your wishes. But I couldn't stop thinking about you.” His hand twitches toward her.

“I couldn't stop thinking about you, either.” Her fingers brush against his, and he catches her hand in his own, reveling in the warmth and softness.

He finds himself leaning toward her. He can't believe this is happening. It feels like another one of his dreams. “This sort of thing doesn't happen to me,” he says, rubbing his thumb over the back of her hand. She stares up into his eyes like she never wants to look at anything else, and feels as if he's drowning. “I need you to know that. I don't go around trying to charm all the women in town. That's not me. I haven't gone on a single date since I began studying for the priesthood years and years ago.”

“This doesn't happen to me, either, Killian,” she says, squeezing his hand a little tighter. “Things were really bad at the end, with Henry's father. We've managed to be friends – or close to it – for Henry's sake. But it left me really sour on relationships. I've had a handful of dates, but nothing ever clicked. Nothing ever felt even close to being right. But when I'm with you... I don't even know how to explain it.” She shakes her head.

“I understand. I haven't felt this drawn to someone in so long, I'd almost forgotten what it could feel like – to want to be with someone. It's almost like some mysterious force is pulling us together – like magnets.” He's babbling, but he doesn't care. Emma wants him. She wants him the same way he wants her. That's the only thing that matters, right now.

“That's exactly how I feel,” she replies.

And just like a magnet he finds himself leaning even closer to her. He lets go of her hand and reaches up to brush her hair back from her face, resting his palm against her cheek. She grips his hip with one hand and raises the other to trail her fingers down the side of his face, sending waves of heat coursing through his body. He's never wanted to kiss someone so intensely in his life.

“I can't believe this is happening,” he murmurs. He closes his eyes and lets his lips graze against her forehead in a soft kiss.

In a rush all of the images from his dreams flood his mind, vying for his attention, as if they want him to believe that he's known this woman for months. “This is madness,” he whispers. What the hell is he doing?

He pulls back a little, but isn't ready to let his hand drop. This touch – this connection – is filling a need inside of him that he didn't even know he had. “What are we doing, Emma?” he asks, searching for some way of anchoring himself to reality in this midst of this torrent of feelings. “We've barely known each other for a month. I don't do this! I have no idea what happens next.”

She shakes her head slightly. “You're right. This feels crazy. Like we're stuck in romance novel, or something.” She laughs, and he grins at the sight.

He finds himself sending out a silent prayer. _God, my Father, please help me know if this is real. Help me do the right thing. I want this to be real._

He takes a deep breath. “Perhaps, before we get too carried away, we need to bring this back into the real world.” Reluctantly he drops his hand and takes a slight step back. She does the same.

Even one second after breaking contact, he craves her touch again. It really is madness – but of a sort he doesn't want to recover from. “I think the sensible thing to do right now would be to ask you to dinner. So – will you join me for dinner tomorrow night?”

She smiles and laughs again. “Yes. I would love to go to dinner with you.”

“Well, that's a relief.” He chuckles.

Her grin is bright enough to light up the whole street.

“I'll pick you up at Regina's. Does seven o'clock sound good?”

Her smiles softens, but loses none of its radiance. “It sounds perfect.”

“Alright. Now that that's settled, I think I'd better finish walking you home, before we both lose our heads again.” He wouldn't entirely mind losing his head – he's felt her kiss in his dreams, and can't help but long to feel it in real life, as well. But he needs to be responsible. She's a single mother, and he has a church to lead by example. He needs to be sensible about this, no matter much his body longs for something else.

Even so, when, after another minute of walking, he finds her hand reaching out to take his, again, he feels happier than he has in ages.

He leaves her at the path to Regina's door, with one last squeeze to her hand and an awkward goodbye – but it's a type of awkwardness he doesn't mind, because it's the awkwardness that sits on the precipice of “comfort” and “familiarity,” and he can't wait until they reach that stage.

He heads home with the lightest heart he's had in weeks, and quickly falls into a deep and dreamless sleep.

~ ~ ~

Emma is so happy she feels like singing. Being able to touch Killian again – feeling how much he cares for her in a genuine way, not the false way Regina put inside of him – all of it is better than she could have imagined. She feels foolish for letting herself get mired in hopelessness. She never should have lost her faith.

She manages to get to her room without seeing Regina, and doesn't call Neal or Henry. She's not ready to tell anyone about these new developments. It still feels so fragile. She doesn't want to jinx it.

In the morning she slips out before Regina emerges from her room and enjoys a long walk along the waterfront before breakfast at Granny's.

In the late morning Emma is working alone at the station while David is out on patrol. Without warning, Regina walks in.

She's angry. She's been angry a lot, lately. Emma can sympathize – she misses Henry every bit as much as Regina does. But they are where they are. They both just need to wait it out for the time being.

Even so, Regina rants for nearly thirty minutes about how Emma didn't let Henry come for his regular visit over the weekend, and demands that he come at least one day in the middle of the week.

“After all I'm doing for you, you owe me this,” Regina says.

Emma grits her teeth. Regina has an inflated opinion about what she's doing to help, but now isn't the time. “I'll talk to Neal and see what we can work out.”

Regina huffs. “I still have no idea why that man has more right to Henry than I do. I was the one who raised him, while that person was off committing who knows what crimes all over North America.”

Emma sympathizes, but Regina isn't exactly one to offer criticism after everything she's done. “He has as much right to a second chance as you do,” she says.

Regina only rolls her eyes. “This is absurd. And you've barely made any progress with Hook. This curse is going to last forever.”

Emma sighs. It seems that she has no choice but fill Regina in – unless she wants to listen to another half-hour rant. “Actually, we had a very good talk last night, and he asked me to dinner. He's picking me up at seven.”

Regina's eyes go wide. “Really? It's about damn time. Now you just need to work your magic, win his heart, and take care of business. This plan is finally back on track.”

Emma shakes her head. “You know I hate when you talk about it like this. And this will take as long as it takes. You can't force people's feelings. Please be patient, Regina.”

“It's been a month, Emma.” Regina folds her arms across her chest and glares. “I think I'm justified in running out of patience. Now – do you have something nice to wear, instead of your usual...” She gestures to Emma's outfit.

Emma manages to restrain a sharp retort and puts up with another ten minute lecture on her clothing choices before she finally gets Regina to leave.

And this is exactly why she didn't want to tell anyone.

~ ~ ~

Killian doesn't want to seem over-eager, but when the chance to step into Granny's for a late-morning coffee arrives, he buys a second cup for Emma without even thinking.

He shakes his head at his absurd level of excitement over their date as he makes his way to the station. He steps through the door and is about to turn the corner into the office area when he hears Regina's voice, and pauses.

“This is absurd. And you've barely made any progress with Hook. This curse is going to last forever.”

What...?

“Actually, we had a very good talk last night, and he asked me to dinner. He's picking me up at seven.”

“Really?” Regina's voice replies. “It's about damn time. Now you just need to work your magic, win his heart, and take care of business. This plan is finally back on track.”

“You know I hate when you talk about it like this. And this will take as long as it takes. You can't force people's feelings. Please be patient, Regina,” Emma replies.

They're talking about him. But none of this makes sense. A curse? A plan? Winning his heart to take care of business?

“It's been a month, Emma. I think I'm justified in running out of patience.”

Killian turns and slips out as quietly as he can. He doesn't want to hear any more of this conversation.

His heart is racing. He can't make any sense of what he just heard.

He makes his way into a nearby wooded area and sits down on a fallen log. He squeezes his eyes shut and tries to understand.

Emma admitted that Regina had plans to set them up when she first moved to town. But then she'd said that she shut Regina down. So why has Regina been waiting a month for them to go on a date? And what is this plan? And what in blazes does a curse have to do with anything? Was Regina speaking metaphorically or literally?

He feels sick to his stomach. All of his elation from the night before has vanished.

Have Emma and Regina been manipulating him? Why would they do such a thing?

Maybe he misunderstood their conversation. He doesn't have the full context. Even so, there are no ways to hear this that leave Emma's intentions as pure and innocent as he thought they were.

Regina clearly has some sort of endgame in mind that involves him and Emma in a relationship, and she's been pushing Emma to make it happen.

Does Emma really care about him at all, or is it just an act?

He stands and starts walking home, tossing his coffee cups in the nearest trash bin. He has no idea what to do, now. Nothing makes any sense.

After he gets home he calls Doris to let her know he isn't feeling well and will be working at home for the rest of the day.

He can't face anyone, right now. He feels used and humiliated.

As the hours pass, he fluctuates back and forth between twisting his thoughts to somehow justify and excuse Emma and wallowing in his pain from being used and manipulated.

When the evening draws near, he still doesn't know what he wants to do.

In his heart, he wants to give Emma the benefit of the doubt. But he refuses to let himself become a tool in some twisted plan of Regina's.

Finally he decides that there is only one real solution. He has to confront Emma with what he overheard, and get an explanation straight from her.

It makes him sick with anxiety to think of it, but there is no other way to discover the truth.

Before he leaves to pick her up, he kneels in prayer and asks for the strength to go through with this, and the discernment to recognize the truth when he hears it. He needs all the help he can get, right now.

~ ~ ~

Emma looks at herself in the mirror and takes a deep breath, trying to calm her nerves. In a moment of sentiment she picked out the same black skirt and white sweater that she wore on their other first date, all those months ago. Back when he knew about the curse and she didn't.

And now the roles are reversed.

There are times when she still can't believe this is her life.

For a moment she contemplates changing into something with less emotional baggage, but eventually decides to stick with it. That other date went pretty well, after all. Maybe it will bring her luck.

Downstairs she pulls on a coat and tucks the insignia in her pocket for another measure of luck.

She only has to wait a few more minutes before the doorbell rings.

The butterflies in her stomach are having a dance party when she opens the door to find Killian waiting on the stoop.

She's surprised to see him still in his priest's shirt and collar, and his smile looks tight and tense. Did something bad happen to him today?

She tries not to let it worry her, offering him a warm greeting and following him to his car.

He still looks tense as he drives.

“So, where are we headed?” she asks, trying to lighten the mood.

“You'll see,” he replies. But his tone doesn't imply a fun surprise. On the contrary, he sounds upset.

“Killian – is something wrong?”

“That's what we need to figure out.” He turns the car to the street alongside the city park near the waterfront, and pulls over.

Emma has a sinking feeling. Something is very, very wrong. “I don't understand.”

“We need to talk. Come on.” He steps out of the car and heads into the park.

Her unease growing by the second, Emma follows.

She follows him across the grass until he pauses in front of a cluster of shrubs. He runs his hand through his hair and rocks from foot to foot, looking as upset as she's ever seen him.

“Killian, what is going on?” she asks.

He shakes his head a few times before answering. “I was bringing you coffee late this morning, but before I got all the way into the office, I heard some things.”

Emma feels as if a rock has dropped into her stomach. He was there when she was talking to Regina. What did he hear?

He grimaces. “I take it by the look on your face that you're not exactly pleased about me overhearing your conversation with Regina. Is it because you've been found out? Is this really some sort of sick plan that Regina roped you into? Is that why you're acting like you care about me?”

Oh God. This is the worst possible thing that could have happened.

“Killian, it's not like that.”

“Then what is it like?” he asks, spreading his arms wide and gesturing in frustration. “I didn't hear everything, but what I did hear made it pretty clear that Regina has some sort of plan that involves you enticing me into a relationship. I don't want to think the worst of you – I really don't. But I'm having a hard time finding anything good about this, right now.”

She takes a deep breath. “I know it's hard to believe right now, but I promise you that everything I said last night is true. I really do have feelings for you. I really do want to go out with you. All of that is real. You have to believe me.”

He shakes his head. “But you've given me no explanation for anything that I heard. How can I believe you?”

Emma pauses for a moment, struggling to find an answer. And then it occurs to her – she's had this conversation before. Or one almost like it.

That night when August told her about the curse and told her that Killian knew the truth, she confronted him. And this is almost exactly like the conversation they had that night, only with the roles reversed.

She'd wanted to believe him. She'd wanted to trust him. But the full measure of that trust hadn't returned until weeks later once he had a chance to tell her his real life story, and there were no more lies between them.

After that – after she knew the full truth – it had been so easy to let herself love him.

Yet here she is, doing the same thing to him that he'd done to her. Manipulating him into a relationship under false pretenses. Lying to him.

No matter how good her motives are, there's no way they can share a True Love's Kiss under these circumstances. She sees that, now.

They were so close to breaking the first curse, but his lies got in the way. And now hers are the problem.

And there is only one way to solve it.

_Please God, let this work._

~ ~ ~

Killian's chest aches as Emma stares at him, floundering to answer his questions. He was right. She _was_ using him, though for what purpose he had no idea.

And then she says something that blindsides him. “Did you hear Regina talking about a curse?”

He knits his brow. “I – yes. But I thought it must be some sort of metaphor that the two of you understood, but I didn't. What does it all mean? I'm still listening, Emma, but I won't for much longer, unless you give me a good reason to trust you.”

“I have one.” Emma stepped toward him, an earnest look in her eyes. “But it's going to be hard for you to believe. I need you to listen without judgment. Give me the benefit of the doubt. Please.”

She might still be manipulating him... But he was willing to give her this last chance. “I'm listening.”

She squares her shoulders and lifts her chin. “The curse Regina mentioned – it's not a metaphor. It's real. This entire town, except me and Regina, is under a curse that made all of you forget your true identities. And I'm here to break the curse and wake you up.”

Killian blinks. His mouth hangs open. He shakes his head. “What?! You mean we're all under some sort of magical spell?”

“Yes. Exactly,” Emma replies.

“You honestly expect me to believe this?” Why of all things did she choose _this_ as her story? Literally anything else would have been more believable.

She shakes her head. “No. I don't. Because it's unbelievable. Impossible. Ridiculous. How could it possibly be true? But it is. This is the truth, Killian.”

He shakes his head and backs away from her. Everything about her tone and expression tells him that she is utterly sincere, which almost makes this worse. Is she delusional?

“I know exactly how you're feeling right now,” she says. “Because a few months ago, our roles were reversed. The town was under a different curse – apparently that's a hazard of living here. And that time _you_ knew the truth, and I didn't, and you tried to start a relationship with me under false pretenses. Your feelings were real, but you lied about who you really were and what you knew, because you thought that if you told me the truth you would lose me forever. And you nearly did. I managed to forgive you, and we were together. But now that the tables are turned, I made the exact same mistake. And I was wrong, and I'm sorry.”

His head is spinning. This can't be real – it _can't_! And yet... All those dreams felt so much like memories. Could it be possible?

He shakes his head. “This is absurd.”

“I know,” she replies. “But it's real. It's our life.”

He rubs his forehead, his thoughts spinning, grasping for anything real to hold onto. “And... and in this other life – the one I've supposedly forgotten – we were together?”

Emma nods, pain evident on her face. “We were. We were in love. Are in love. I love you, Killian. That's why I'm here. That's why I'm trying to break the curse. Because I love you, and I miss you, and I want you back. I want you to remember.”

_She loves him._ But how can he believe her? But he sees it in her eyes. He _feels_ it.

The same swell of emotion that he felt in his dream when Henry asked him if he was in love with Emma fills his chest. Can he love a woman he doesn't even trust? A woman he doesn't even know?

_But if what she says is true, I do know her._

All the dreams – the pain he saw on Emma's face the first few times they encountered each other – the way his feelings for her came on so quickly and so intensely – all of it fits. But how can it? He doesn't know what to believe.

“I know how hard this is right now,” she says. “I know it, because I lived it. I need you to look inside your heart. Go pray about it if you need to.”

“How can God and magic both exist?” he demands, the question suddenly feeling like the most important one.

She shakes her head. “I don't know. And neither did you. But your faith never once wavered. You believed in both. And you also believed in us. Because we're the key, Killian. Henry and I managed to escape the curse, and before we did, you and I made a promise to each other. We knew that if I could come back and win your love and get you to believe, that we could break the curse together. I didn't have faith that it would work, but you did. You and Henry. The two of you convinced me that this was the only way to save all our friends and loved ones. That's why I'm here, Killian. I'm here to save you. And then, together, we can save everyone else.”

His head aches with the impossibility of it all.

With every word she speaks, his heart wants more and more to believe her.

But curses? Magic? “I don't know what to say. How can I believe any of this? How?” The question is as much for himself as for her.

Emma takes a deep breath. “You have to take a leap of faith. That's what I did back in that other life, and the rewards were greater than I ever could have dreamed. I need you to do the same. We all need you to take that leap.”

“So now the entire town depends on me believing this impossible story?” He feels sick and anxious and confused and longing and wishing all at the same time. “I can't. I can't.”

He turns away from her. He needs a moment to collect himself.

Suddenly a bright white light blazes behind him. He spins around and gasps.

Emma's hands are outstretched, a swirling ball of light spinning over each of her cupped palms.

“What the bloody hell?” he murmurs.

Emma offers him a sad smile. “It's magic. Just like I said.”

He stares at the glowing lights.

Is this really happening? Can it possibly be true?

“See for yourself,” she says. She closes her fists and the lights vanish in an instant, letting darkness fall back over them – the only light coming from the moon and a distant street lamp. She pulls off her coat and shakes the sleeves at him. “Feel them. You won't find any hidden lights or electronics.”

He runs his fingers over the cuffs of the coat, turning them this way and that. He can't feel anything that could have produced that light.

“And see?” She tucks the coat under her arm and pushes up the sleeves of her sweater, rotating her hands and wrists in front of him. “Nothing there. And I had no idea we were coming to the park, so I couldn't have hidden anything here. This is real, Killian. Everything I told you is real. Just like the dreams.”

His breath catches in his throat. “How do you know about the dreams?”

Her eyes grow sad again. “I've been trying to send them to you. Trying to bring back your old memories in your sleep, when your mind isn't so closed to them.”

He runs his hand through his hair and stares at the ground. He feels like he's walking through a dream right now. She's shown him so much proof – his heart wants to believe her, but his mind still wants to reject her story.

“I don't know what to do,” he murmurs. “I don't even know what to think.”

Emma shakes her head. “You don't have to make your mind up about things tonight. This is a lot to take in – I get that. You need time. And I'll give you all the time you need. I'm not giving up on you. On _us._ I will stay here every day, answering every question you have for months if that's how long it takes. You never gave up on me. Not once. And I won't give up on you, either.” Tears shine in her eyes. Everything about this tells him that she is speaking the truth.

He shakes his head again. “I want to believe you. But I don't know how.”

She looks thoughtful for a moment, and then digs into the pocket of her coat and holds something out to him. “Take this. Please.”

After a moment of hesitation, he reaches out and takes it from her. It is an old leather tag with a gold medallion on one side and an embossed name on the other, “Jones.”

“What is this?” He turns it over and over in his fingers. Something about it feels achingly familiar.

“It was yours, in that other life,” Emma says. “You gave it to me as token of your trust, and a good luck charm. I've kept it near me ever since. You told me it used to belong to your brother, Liam.”

He swallows another breath. “I never told you about Liam.”

“Not in this life, you didn't.” She shakes her head, tears still standing unshed in her eyes. “But you did in the other one. I know how much he meant to you. That's why it was so powerful when you chose to give one of your last remaining tokens of his life to me.”

Killian squeezes the leather tag in his hand. “I feel like you're telling me the truth. But I can't wrap my head around it. Every ounce of rationality in me is telling me to reject what you're saying. But... I can't. Not completely.” He meets her eyes. “I truly don't know what to do.”

Emma squeezes her lips together and nods. “I understand. Just... try something for me.”

“What?” What more can she possibly ask of him than to believe this fantastical tale she's spinning.

“Hold that insignia while you're falling asleep, tonight. And, if you feel comfortable with it, pray about all this. Ask God to help you know what the truth is.” She shakes her head. “I never managed to share your faith in God, but I'm learning to understand it, and to respect it. Your faith never wavered, no matter what life threw at you. In all of your darkest moments you would turn to Him, and He would bring you peace. Now is one of those moments, Killian. Trust in your God, and in your heart, and in your faith, and you'll find the answers you're looking for. I believe that with all my heart.”

Killian swallows hard and clutches the insignia a little tighter. “Okay. I'll try. But I need some time to sort this out.”

“I understand,” she answers. “I'm fine walking home. Go ahead and be by yourself. Take your time to really think and pray about all of this. I believe in you.”

“Why?” he says. “Why do you believe in me?”

Her answering smile does little to hide her pain. “Because you always believed in me. Even when I couldn't.”

A moment from one of his dreams comes rushing back into his mind. In the dream Emma had asked him that same question – why did he believe in her. And he'd told her that she saved him.

That moment felt so real and so true when he dreamed it. And now she says she's here to save him again.

He nods. “Alright. I'll do as you ask. I'll meditate on everything you've told me. And I'll hold this insignia when I go to sleep. And when I'm ready to talk again, I'll get in touch.”

“Thank you,” she replies. “That's all I ask. Thank you.”

Her vulnerability in this moments makes him want to reach out to her – to take her in his arms, just like he did so many times in his dreams. But he holds back. He needs to take his time. She's asking him to believe something so outlandish... He needs to be sure.

Even so, he feels guilty as he drives away and leaves her standing alone in that darkened park.

~ ~ ~

Emma sits on a bench and stares out over the water.

It's done. Either he'll start to believe her, and they'll find a way to break this curse together, or he'll turn away from her, and that'll be the end of it.

Regardless of what he chooses, she's glad she took her own leap of faith and told him the truth. The only way they ever found real love and peace with each other was when they were being completely honest. He deserves this. They both do

The very fact that he's willing to listen and willing to think about it fills her with more hope than she's dared to have since she first arrived.

Even so, the hope won't make waiting any easier.

~ ~ ~

Back in his own home, Killian stares at the insignia in his hand. Though Emma only just gave it to him, it feels as familiar in his fingers as if he's held it hundreds of times.

The cognitive dissonance between what he knows of his life and what she is asking him to believe is so intense that he has no idea how to reconcile it. Yet, living as a man of faith in this day and age has already required him to reconcile a great deal of similar mental dissonance.

He overcame doubt for the sake of his faith – can he do it again for the sake of this woman he is rapidly falling in love with?

In the middle of his living room, the insignia still clutched in his hand, he falls to his knees and prays. He prays to know what is true, and to know how to follow his Father's will when nothing makes sense.

He doesn't know how long he pours his heart out in prayer, but he knows that by the time he's done, a sense of peace has settled over his heart. He may not have the answers today, but he knows that his Father heard him.

Somehow, the answers will come.

That night, he dreams more vividly than ever before.

A whole other life plays out in front of his eyes like a fast moving slide-show. He can see himself and all the people he knows moving through a life that he only vaguely recognizes. So much is the same, yet so different all at once.

After playing out weeks – even months – of events in fast forward, his mind slows.

He finds himself in Granny's Bed and Breakfast, sitting with a woman he doesn't recognize.

He hears his own words, and feels the truth of them as he speaks.

“I know it seems preposterous that a follower of Jesus Christ could believe himself to be a former denizen of a story-book realm populated by witches and fairies and a pantheon of gods. Believe me, I’ve struggled to reconcile my conflicting beliefs. I still struggle. But I also have faith that for some reason our Father chose to allow us to be transported to this land, where He and only He governs. We’re here, and in spite of the fantastical natures of our past lives, this is where our futures will play out. This isn’t easy for Neal to tell you, just like it isn’t easy for you to believe. But trust me – he’s taking a leap of faith in your relationship. Faith that after admitting this impossible truth to you, your relationship can become even stronger than when it was based on a much more comfortable lie. Give him a chance. Please.”

He knows in his gut that this woman didn't heed his advice, but here – in what must surely be a memory – he's not really speaking to her anymore.

He's speaking to himself, about Emma and everything she's told him. His own words are being played back to him, encouraging him to believe her, and to take the leap of faith that she is asking of him.

His mind fast-forwards through another series of dramatic events that feel foreign and familiar all at the same time, before once more slowing down.

He stands in the street in front of Granny's surrounded by friends. They all look frightened, and many have tears in their eyes.

Emma is there, and Henry stands beside her. The boy steps forward and calls out for the whole crowd to hear him, “There's another way. I know there is. You can let the curse take you, and then Emma can come and break it again. She's the Savior. That's what she does. We can wait outside the town line and then come back in and she can use true love's kiss to break it.”

The lad's voice rings with pure faith.

Was this how it happened? Is this how he and Emma parted ways?

Emma stands in front of him, tears rolling down her cheeks. “But what if you don't love me, next time? What if I'm not good enough?”

Killian faces her, holding her hand in his. Once again, he hears his own words playing back to him, and he feels the truth of them in his heart. “Emma, I promise you – no matter what magic muddles my mind, no matter what memories I lose, I know without a single doubt that I will always love you. Always.” He leans against her and feels tears sliding down his cheeks. His heart aches as if it's going to burst.

“How do you know?” Emma whispers.

“I have faith.”

Killian wakes up, the insignia still clutched in his hand.

He prayed for answers, and he thinks he's found them.

He dresses quickly and walks through town, still holding the insignia. Everywhere he goes he feels as if he can see shadow images of another time – another life.

In front of City Hall he remembers a crowd of nervous people and several first aid tents set up, where he and David and Ruby worked together to calm the unrest of the citizens.

Outside of Granny's he remembers standing, on several occasions, with Emma and their friends and family (How could they be family? And yet, he knows they are.) to celebrate successes or hastily plan for coming disasters.

Outside of Gold's shop his mind conjures an image of a violent magical battle between Gold a woman he knows to be Regina's mother.

And in front of the library, he remembers Emma crying over him as blood streams from the bullet-wound in his shoulder.

None of it happened in this lifetime, but something in his heart tells him that it _did happen._

He steps into the library.

Belle looks up from the cart of books she's pushing. “Good morning, Killian! You're here early. I only just opened up.”

“Good morning,” he replies. “I, uh, woke up with something on my mind. Thought I'd come do a bit of research to sort it out.”

“Anything I can help with?” she asks.

Killian shakes his head. He remembers her. She turned to him again and again when she was struggling with her relationship with Gold. Gold had lied to her, but she still believed in him. Still believed that he could be a good man.

Killian hadn't always agreed with her, but in the end, he came to hope that she was right. He feels it in his gut.

He shakes his head. “No. I'll manage on my own.”

“Okay. Let me know if you need anything,” she says, and then pushes her cart back between some stacks.

Killian turns to face the wall in front of him. Feeling along it with his fingers, he finds a crack in the panel, and pushes. The wall easily slides to the side, revealing an antique service elevator behind it.

This is where he sent Emma to fight a dragon with nothing but a sword in her hands. This is where he prayed with all his might the she be protected, and that Henry be protected.

And they were.

“My God!” Belle exclaims from behind him. She rushes forward. “How did you know this was here? I've been in charge of this library for months and I never once noticed anything odd about that wall.”

“I don't remember how,” he says. “I just woke up with the thought in my mind that I needed to check it out. And here it is.” The final, tangible proof that all his shadow memories have a basis in truth. It's right here in front of him.

Belle babbles on, wondering what's down there and how to figure it out. He mumbles something about talking to Regina and David that seems to pacify her, and then he strides back onto the street and heads toward the Sheriff's station. It's time to talk to Emma.

~ ~ ~

Emma has been out of sorts all morning. She barely slept last night with all her nerves on high alert. It hadn't helped that Regina pestered her for details as soon as she got home last night. She'd had to insist, “When there is something to tell, I'll tell you,” and then locked herself in her room, hungry and anxious.

David has commented on her jumpiness several times already, and it's only just past nine.

When Killian suddenly strides in, his hair mussed and his eyes wild with excitement, she nearly falls off her chair.

“Whoa – you okay over there?” David asks.

“Yeah. I'm fine,” she lies, her eyes going to Killian.

“G'morning,” he says. “I was wondering if I could borrow Emma for a bit? There's something we need to talk about.”

David looks back and forth between them with a smirk. “Sure. You two go have your talk. I don't mind Emma taking an early break.”

Emma blinks. Already? He's already ready to talk? “Okay. Sure.”

Her heart races as she grabs her jacket and follows him outside. Killian gestures for her to follow and heads toward the nearest woodsy patch, so they'll be out of the public eye.

A million questions are on the tip of her tongue, but she can't seem to get any of them out.

Killian looks as wound up as she feels. He comes to a stop and musses his hair for a second before speaking. “I did it. I held that insignia all night, and prayed my heart out, and answers poured forth out of Heaven.” He shakes his head in disbelief, his eyes wide. “Emma – I'm starting to _remember_.”

She feels dizzy with shock. “You are? Really?”

“Yes.” He wears a bewildered smile. “Those dreams – you were right. They were memories. They felt so real. The dreams were the main reason I avoided you last week. Those dreams were overwhelming me. I didn't know what to make of them. At times they felt more real than the life I was living. And that's because they were, weren't they?”

“Yes,” she replies, a smile growing on her face.

“And last night in my dream it was as if I watched months of my life pass before my eyes in fast forward. I can't remember all the details – a lot of it is still a blur. But it was there. Another life – just like you said.” He shakes his head and looks around them as if he's seeing their surroundings for the first time.

Emma's heart races. She's only seen him this excited and happy a handful of times. She wants nothing more than to throw her arms around him and hold him close. But she needs to make sure he's ready. “Do you remember the people in your life? The ones you were close to?”

He nods slowly. “I remember David and Mary Margaret. They're your family, somehow?”

“Yes.” She nods.

“And – and Gold. He and I... we were enemies. But I think I was trying to forgive him for something. Trying to help him and Belle find happiness together.” He looks into the near distance, as if trying to look at the memories he describes.

“Yes,” she said again, a laugh of wonder escaping her mouth.

“And Gold did something to save the life of Henry's dad. Didn't he?” Killian asks.

Emma nods. “Yes. Henry's dad is Gold's son. Henry is Gold's grandson.”

Killian's eyes are wide. “Extraordinary. And... and we were trying to help Regina, somehow, too. But – it was her mother. Her mother did this to us. Didn't she?”

“It's really happening,” Emma murmurs. “You're really remembering.”

He nods. “I am. You were right to tell me, Emma. I know how terrified you must have been – but telling the truth was exactly what we needed.”

She finds herself smiling so hard that her cheeks ache.

Killian leans toward her. “And I remember something else. I remember _us.”_

Emma's heart starts to race, and she inches toward him. “What do you remember?”

He holds her gaze, his eyes intent. “I remember sending you to fight a dragon, and praying desperately for your safety. I remember caring for your son as if he were my own flesh and blood. I remember being hurt and bleeding, and you crying for me. I remember you saving me. I remembering losing you and getting you back. I remember holding you... kissing you...” His voice grows softer and he leans even closer. “Emma – I don't remember everything. There's so much I still don't know. But I do know something – something that's been growing inside of me ever since you came to town, and something that has grown more powerful and real with every dream I had. I love you, Emma.”

~ ~ ~

Killian hadn't planned this confession. He'd only just begun to admit this truth to himself this morning.

But when the words slip from his lips, he means them with all of his heart and soul.

Emma's answering smile glows like the sun, and her eyes shine with tears. “I love you, too, Killian. I love you.”

And then her arms are around him and her head is buried against his shoulder, and when he hugs her back it feels like coming home.

He feels so much – it fills him from heel to head. But shadow memories aren't enough. He wants more. He wants it back – every memory and every moment that was taken from him.

“Emma,” he murmurs into her hair. “I prayed to know the truth, and now I've found it.”

He pulls back enough to look into her eyes.

She's grinning even as tears roll down her cheeks.

“What do we do now?” he asks. “How do we finish it? How do we break this bloody curse once and for all?”

Emma sucks in a deep breath and her tongue briefly darts out to lick her lips. “Together. We do it together.”

He knows without being told exactly what he needs to do next.

He leans his head forward, and kisses her.

The world fills with glorious light and a shock wave of magic flows out from them.

And in that instant, it all comes flooding back – every moment of every lifetime that he's lived. From the younger Jones brother to the Lieutenant to Captain Jones with Milah at his side to his fight with the Crocodile and his centuries of exile in Neverland followed by his final attempt at vengeance and finally his life as a simple priest, until Emma walked into his life.

He _remembers_.

Tears of joy fill his eyes and he looks down at her, her own tears still wetting her cheeks.

“We did it, Emma. I'm back. It's true love.”

“True love,” she whispers, and then laughs. “We did it!”

She grips the back of his neck and pulls him in for another kiss. He revels in it – nothing in life will ever be sweeter – and lifts her into the air, spinning them both in a circle.

She laughs again as he lowers her back to her feet. “I love you, Killian.”

“And I love you, Emma,” he replies, knowing that he'll love her until the end of time.

With his thoughts he sends a silent prayer of gratitude heavenward. Never in his life would he have thought himself worthy of such a blessing.

“I have to call Henry and Neal,” Emma says. “And Regina! She's been going crazy with Henry living with Neal. And my parents!”

“We have time to find all of them,” Killian replies. “We have all the time in the world.”

She grins, looking more beautiful than ever. “Yeah. We do.”

Killian doesn't know what the future will hold. Given their track record in Storybrooke so far, another disaster is probably just around the bend. But he doesn't care. They've faced the worst, and made it through to the other side.

Whatever this world throws at them, they can handle it. Because they'll do it together.

He's found his happy ending, and he's never letting go.

The End

 


End file.
